


Defining Home

by Katherine737



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Magical Diary - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, implied marital rape (Leopold/Regina), mentioning of Daniel/Regina pairing, non explicit reference to violence and death, post 3x11, scenes of Regina's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine737/pseuds/Katherine737
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after 3x11. Strange dreams lead Emma and Henry to Storybrooke, from where they are taken to the Enchanted Forest. They reach Snow's castle, only to learn that Regina has disappeared and the realm is about the be ripped apart by magic. Emma is the only one to recognize that notebooks containing trivials of Regina’s life are actually enchanted diaries. She breaks the spell by starting with the early ones, getting to know Regina in an entirely new way.<br/>Together with Ruby, Henry and Snow, Emma sets out of find Regina, counting on her to tell her how save everyone and bring them home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I participated in something like this and I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who participated, but first and foremost I'd like to thank Tiff and Lola for organizing this crazy, amazing thing and bringing so many people together.  
> Also I'm thanking Nicole, Daniela, and Bailey for being my betas. Without you this would only be half as good as it is, entire scenes would look different, especially the epilogue ;) and the thougths ;)  
> Of course, all remaining mistakes are entirely my fault.  
> Thanks to the anon cheerleaders at tumblr who were a great motivation!  
> And last but not least I'm thanking the amazing artist, youngatheart, who took time to read my story and took it as inspiration to create something for it - You rock!  
> Here is the art:
> 
>   
> **Art by** [y0ungatheart](http://y0ungatheart.tumblr.com).  
>   
> 
> 
> This story is devided in five chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. It's inspired by a prompt, I'll reveal at the end.  
> Now go ahead and read. I hope you enjoy :) 

Prologue

 

All that Regina has left are her memories. Sometimes she rather wishes she didn't.  
  
There is magic at the realm's borders, pressing in, demanding a price that has already been paid.  
  
Giving up what she loves most hadn't been enough. There had been a chance of that, a small one, one that she hadn't dared to consider.  
  
One that, in the end, doesn't matter.  
  
Because they are safe.  
  
Henry is safe.  
  
And he is loved.  
  
He isn't alone, he is loved dearly by the only mother he has ever known.  
  
So it is of no consequence that giving up the thing she loves most has meant something different than letting them go.  
  
She wouldn't have considered it, even if she had known with certainty.  
  
And she is almost sure that no one would have tried to make her do it.  
  
The irony is that the only thing that could save their land now would be a true love's child, possessing pure white magic.  
  
An occurrence so rare, everyone thought it was nothing but folklore.  
  
Even Emma's parents hadn't thought about it. They had ascribed her magic to the Savior-title, nothing more.  
  
Until Regina had told them differently.  
  
And she had tried.  
  
She had tried to get Henry and Emma back.  
  
Selfishly.  
  
Of course it hadn't worked. No matter how inefficient, them being gone was her price to pay. She couldn't just take it back.  
  
There is no way to pass between realms anymore.  
  
Her curse, her magic has made it impossible, has broken an entire realm this time.  
  
She can still feel her magic within her, swirling, screaming, connecting to the rift that surrounds their land, demanding to be set free, ready to destroy.  
  
And while she knows that it's only a matter of time, she tries to hold on as long as she can.  
  
Because even though she has lost hope, she can't squander that basic human instinct that's struggling inside of her: the desire to stay alive, the will to live.  
  
That desire keeps her magic inside until she passes out, powering up the force that's crushing their land once more.  
  
She had considered telling the others, letting them kill her, finally, but the sad fact is that it would be too late. Her death would only set her energy free, killing them sooner. And maybe the fact that _they_ still have hope means something.  
  
So she does the only thing she can think of and holds on while she allows herself to get lost in her thoughts.  
  
Pictures of Henry mingle with memories of Daniel. Curiously Snow finds her way into Regina’s mind; even curiouser, there's Emma.  
  
The Savior is prominent in the pictures she conjures up of her son growing up, happily living his life. He is graduating, smiling broadly at his blonde mother. She is sitting in the front row at his wedding; she calms him in the hospital, helps him hold his newborn child. Their lives play out in front of her eyes, until it comes back to the tiny baby she had held in her arms, just three weeks old. The memories she has given to Emma form themselves in her mind. It's Emma who's holding her perfect little boy, soothing him, teaching him how to walk, to talk, to dress, to behave, who watches him jump around in joy.  
  
A picture of eleven-year-old Henry smiling happily at Emma is her last conscious thought.


	2. Chapter 2

She wakes up sobbing.  
  
Emma Swan, who promised herself a long time ago that the last tears she cried were in prison, finds herself crying due to her dreams. She convinces herself that it would be okay if it were nightmares or something of the sort, but mainly she is crying because of a haunting sadness in a pair of dark, teary eyes.  
  
It's becoming worse, and she has no idea how to handle it.  
  
Since she can’t do anything about her strangely emotional dreams, she concentrates on her morning ritual and wakes up Henry. Under the familiar motions of making breakfast she eventually manages to relax. When she fills his plate, Henry gives her a wide smile, accepting the cocoa next.  
  
Henry is happy.  
  
That simple fact makes the slight pressure on her chest ease up, like it's the most important thing in her life. And it is.  
  
Henry leaves with a kiss to her cheek, and the reminder that Claire's mom is going to drive them to their fencing class after school.  
  
He has always been able to make new friends surprisingly well, but this time it had taken him longer to find a tight little circle of friends he is comfortable with.  
  
 _It might be the teenage years starting._  
  
And because that thought horrifies her, she packs it safely away, until she has to deal with it.  
  
Henry is her little baby boy. Just yesterday she could still hold him in her arms, swing him around, feign plane rides...  
  
Now, she goes to work, wondering when it's time to have 'the talk' with her kid, and if it is really necessary. It's not like she has sat him down to talk about sex before, but she has always answered his questions honestly, he has seen movies, read a lot, had contact with other human beings. So he pretty much knows the facts of life.  
  
 _Besides, he is too young, right?_  
  
Her co-workers smile at her innocence, but it's not like they have kids of their own.  
  
She's doing a lot more paperwork these days, scouting out criminals and sending her colleagues or bounty hunters to pick their clients up. It's New York, where criminals thrive, so business is good. Emma has even taken to running things, while their boss merely overlooks their finances nowadays. Three people share her daytime job of finding 'missing' clients through careful paperwork. They have five more people at their disposal.  
  
It's not terribly impressive, but it's what she knows and it brings food to the table. Every now and then she still brings in clients herself, mostly when it's an easy job and Henry's at school.  
  
When he was little she had to do lot of waitressing, but her first bail bonds job had been their breakthrough.  
  
Looking over her desk at the list of fled clients, she smiles. It's gonna be a busy day and she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it.

* * *

Later on that day, Claire and Henry are arguing about some letter in the elven alphabet, while Reese, Claire's mom, is leaning against the counter of their kitchen, typing angrily on her phone, presumably arguing with her fiance again. Emma shakes her head at her and grins towards the kids. She has no idea how she raised such a smart and sassy geek but she enjoys it immensely.  
  
She is just done chopping onions for the Lasagna, Henry's favorite dish, and one of the few she knows how to make, when Reese finally throws her phone on the counter with a deep sigh.  
  
“Not going well?” Emma turns to her while pushing an annoying lock out of her eyes, but Reese just raises her eyebrow and nods toward the ingredients she's putting together, her long red curls swinging in the slight shaking of her head.  
  
“Someday you have to tell me how you learned to cook like that...”  
  
Emma grins, completely self-satisfied until she feels the sharp pain in her eye.  
  
“Fuck!”, she whispers, receiving a dark chuckle from Reese, who shoves her in the direction of the bathroom.  
  
“Again Emma?”  
  
Emma mumbles cursing to herself, while she washes her hands thoroughly before carefully rinsing her left eye out.  
  
Lately she's been screwing up in the most obvious of ways. Her hand is still burned from last week when she attempted to get the cookies out of the oven with nothing but a thin cloth protecting her hands. There are cuts all over her other hand from chopping onions in a way that she remembers doing for years, but her hands keep failing her.  
  
Today she forgot to wash her hands after cutting chili, a novice mistake that routine should have killed long ago.  
  
She washes her face and stares for a moment at her pale reflection. Her wavy hair is held back in a loose ponytail, revealing an all too pale face. She looks tired, even a little sick.  
  
“Everything okay in there?”  
  
Reese asks from outside just as Emma drops her gaze, deciding it's better not to stare at herself.  
  
“I'll be out in a sec,” she reassures her, wondering, not for the first time, when she became the woman that got friendly with other moms, only to shake her head at her stupid thoughts.  
  
In moments like these, when she's inspecting her failing hands and everything feels kind of distant, she asks herself whether she's living the life of someone else.  
  
She knows that voicing those thoughts out loud would get her committed, so she doesn't. Instead she plasters a smile on her face and focuses on Henry, the only one who seems real. He helps her to focus, to function.  
  
So she smiles and cooks and hugs Reese goodbye because that's what friends do, even though the pressure around her upper body makes her feel something like that, a casual hug, hasn't happened too often before New York. But of course that's nonsense.

* * *

After Claire and Reese are gone, Henry cajoles Emma to extend his bedtime by another half an hour, intently burying his nose in his book to finish the ‘thrilling’ chapter he’s at. She settles into the couch next to him, her laptop on her knees.  
  
She finds herself researching things like procedural memory, detachment feelings, even depression, but nothing really fits.  
  
This is her life now, the life she provides Henry with, the happy atmosphere she sets for him and it is as real as the air she's breathing.  
  
The feeling that her memories aren't her own, doesn't fit in any category. Reading up on the diseases the human brain is capable of, she's relieved that all the other described symptoms don't apply to her.  
  
So she closes her laptop, tucks Henry in, kisses him goodnight and allows the television to drown out her thoughts until she goes to sleep herself.  
  
She dreams, of course.  
  
About dark, sad eyes, a trembling smile and a promise of happiness.  
  
Emma wakes up with the feeling that she's forgotten something.  
  
Something important.  
  
But like yesterday, the day before yesterday and the rest of the week, she pushes it away, unwanted, refusing to let that feeling destroy the happiness of Henry's life.

* * *

It's not until a couple of days (and dreams) later that Emma finds herself sitting opposite Henry, having breakfast, when he pushes something over the table with that grave expression on his face that indicates bad news.  
  
“Does that mean something to you?” he asks. She looks at the object in question, a book. The title proclaims it to be a modern collection of fairytales. Emma looks at her son questioningly.  
  
“Henry?”  
  
“Look at it. Please.”  
  
There is a new tinge to his voice, a desperation he is not supposed to feel.  
  
So she looks.  
  
The book is filled with all the popular stories. There is a picture of a wolf approaching Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella riding to a ball in a pumpkin chariot, Prince Charming kissing Snow White awake, the Evil Queen offering an apple to her fair stepdaughter.  
  
She lingers at the last two far too long, her stomach churning, her body trying to tell her something that her mind can't quite grasp.  
  
For some inexplicable reason she feels something akin to fear when she looks up to meet Henry's anxious gaze again. She has to force herself to keep her voice calm.  
  
“What am I supposed to see?”  
  
He looks disappointed, but not surprised.  
  
“Do you feel something?”  
  
She waits a moment too long, hesitates to listen to the empty feeling in her stomach, before she shakes her head.  
  
Without further warning he gets up and explodes.  
  
“No! You felt something! I saw it! I watched you! I've seen how you look in the morning! I'm not the only one!”  
  
An icy feeling washes through her.  
  
“The only one to what, Henry?”  
  
He's looking at her directly, about to deliver a devastating blow, and knowing it.  
  
Somethings stirs within Emma, reminding her of something she simply can't recall.  
  
“The only one to dream,” he answers defiantly, holding her gaze. His eyes flicker when Emma twitches.  
  
“You do dream of them, right?”  
  
“Dream of whom, Henry?”, she asks calmly, carefully, dreading his answer.  
  
“Them!”  
  
He gestures to the book in front of him and her utterly transparent disability to understand what he's talking about breaks him. He sags down into his chair and sighs.  
  
Emma's heart stops when he starts talking.  
  
About the town filled with fairytale characters, about Snow White being a school teacher, Red Riding Hood being a werewolf, working in her Granny's diner.  
  
His voice starts to tremble when he talks about a woman with big, sad eyes, who's looking at him with kindness, love even.  
  
For a moment she considers letting him ramble until he's all out of words and loses this... fantasy of his, but an intrigued feeling inside of her pushes her on. No matter how crazy it sounds, she needs to know if there's any truth to this.  
  
“What does she look like?”  
  
“I don't know, Ma. She's maybe a little smaller than you? She has dark hair up until here,” he gestures at his shoulders.  
  
“Her eyes are brown, I think.”  
  
He scrunches up his face, concentrating hard until he smiles excitedly.  
  
“Oh, and she has a scar at her lip, just here.”  
  
He indicates his upper lip, prompting Emma to take a deep breath. It's impossible, it’s beyond ridiculous, but what are the chances of them dreaming about the same woman, unprompted? She isn't an actress, doesn’t appear in any of their movies or video games, nor is she a teacher or mom from school. Emma looked. Thoroughly.  
  
But the woman also isn't solely a figment of her imagination anymore.

After that it takes Henry surprisingly little time to convince her to drive up to Maine, to check.  
  
Just to 'check' whether he's right.  
  
They plan their trip for the Christmas holidays. Everyone else is out of town anyway and a trip to the Maine coast is Henry's only Christmas wish.  
  
So Emma finds a little seaside hotel and plans their route, all the while asking herself to which degree she has lost her mind.  
  
They buy enough sweets to last the first hour of their trip, pack up their bags for a week and drive off. By now Emma is pretending that they're just doing a holiday thing, nothing more. Henry is so excited that he indulges her.  
  
Emma is skittish to the point of questioning her driving skills. She has apparently lost at least part of her cooking and baking skills over the last few months, not to mention her sanity, what if her driving is next?  
  
Henry, though, seems happy.  
  
His eyes are shining with excitement and for the first half-hour he bounces up and down in his seat, until the long car ride gets to him and he slumps down.  
  
It's peculiar that he seems more relaxed than he has in the last few weeks, like a burden has been lifted from his shoulders. _And it makes sense._  
  
She has been dreaming about one single, blurry moment. About a beautiful, sad woman and a group of people behind her.  
  
Henry has dreamed up a whole town of fairytale characters. It had taken him days, if not weeks, to talk about it. Now that he has, he seems free.  
  
Emma, on the other hand, wonders if her own burden is just starting to present itself.  
  
Then she asks herself where exactly those thoughts are coming from.

* * *

It's the late afternoon, they're on a little seaside road, enjoying the view, when Henry suddenly straightens up. His excitement levels seemed to rise the nearer they got to the coast, but Emma still flinches when his arm juts out right in front of her head.  
  
“There!”  
  
“Henry! I'm trying to drive here.”  
  
“Take that road!”  
  
Of course. If she had thought about what to expect, this is it.  
  
“Henry, it doesn’t lead anywhere. It's a dead end.”  
  
“Well, then it shouldn't be too hard to find that dead end.”  
  
She complies with his request, partly because of his logic, partly because she just doesn't have the energy to fight. When they arrive at the dead end, they'll just turn around again.  
  
Her compliance has also a lot to do with what waits for them the other way. She had tried to ignore it when they had chosen a coastal town in Maine, but she knows.  
  
Somewhere around here she'd been left at the side of a road.  
  
So it's better that they are going in the other direction, even if it only is for a short while.  
  
“There!”  
  
“Henry!”  
  
She grips the wheel tighter, intent not to follow her son's enthusiastic pointing while driving. But he's right.  
  
There is no dead end.  
  
Instead they are passing a green town sign that welcomes them to the town of 'Storybrooke'.  
  
“Seriously?” she grumbles, while Henry beams.  
  
“It's real!”  
  
“Real?”  
  
“It's the town I dreamed of,” he informs her like it should clear everything right up.  
  
It doesn't.  
  
After a short way through the forest they arrive at the borders of a small town.  
  
A hauntingly empty small town.  
  
There is no one around except for them.  
  
No person outside, no car moving, no shop open.  
  
 _Well, the last one isn't exactly true._  
  
Some shops are open, but empty nevertheless.  
  
It's...  
  
“Eerie,” Henry points out with big eyes, barely remaining in his seat, and Emma finds herself agreeing.  
  
They circle the town twice, bypassing cars that have been left in the middle of the road, without finding a living soul, not even animals.  
  
“You know I saw a town like this in a documentary once. It was in the desert. They all left when the water dried out, leaving their houses and shops behind,” Emma tries, but Henry shakes his head as she parks.  
  
“This is different.”  
  
He nods to a shop opposite of them. 'Gepetto's' door is open, but nothing but the wind passes through it.  
  
“Can we look around?”  
  
Emma shrugs.  
  
“I guess. No one's here, so it should be safe.”  
  
Accepting her judgment, he gets out. She follows him immediately, reprimanding him for running barely ten steps away from her. Even though they can't see any other people, it doesn't mean there aren't any.  
  
She keeps looking around, trying to find a sign of life, taking in the cars that are standing in the middle of the road, the doors that are left wide open. Nothing suggests that this is a boarded up town.  
  
No, it looks more like everyone just suddenly disappeared.  
  
Which is simply ridiculous.  
  
“I know this place!” Henry exclaims. She turns around to see him standing in front of a diner.  
  
“I dreamed of this!”  
  
“It's a diner, Henry. You've seen many of those whenever we moved.”  
  
Though she tried before their apartment in New York, she had never felt like staying anywhere.  
  
Which was why they had arrived in her car with little more than a couple of clothes. Henry had been pouting, but she had made it up by almost completely restoring his comic book collection.  
  
“No. I have seen this in my dreams. Look, Granny's. That's specific, right?”  
  
She smiles at him, trying to placate him, but he just scowls, seeing right through her.  
  
“I'm right.”  
  
 _It's still just an empty small town, though._  
  
“Then, where are the people you were talking about?”  
  
Where is the dark-haired woman from her dreams?  
  
He kicks at some dirt, dragging his feet.  
  
“I don't know.”  
  
Because he's Henry and he’s incredibly optimistic, he perks up after about five seconds.  
  
“But we haven't seen everything yet. I recognize this diner, maybe I've seen something else?”  
  
That last idea is what brings them to the large white mansion. For the first time since he was six and she had screamed at him so loudly that people on the sidewalk had turned around to look at them, he unbuckles his seat belt and jumps out of the bug before she even properly stops the car.  
  
“Henry!”  
  
But he keeps on running, easily passing the huge unlocked door, bustling up stairs like he has done it hundreds of times, until he's standing in a room that's a perfect copy of his old room in Chicago.  
  
She stops then, right behind him, her eyes just as wide as his.  
  
“Henry?”, she whispers, for once incapable of hiding the tremor in her voice.  
  
Emma has never felt so out of her place.  
  
Especially because he ignores her, walks right by her and checks out the rest of the house.  
  
As always, she follows him.  
  
“Do you..?” she swallows, desperately hoping that she's dreaming, “recognize anything?”  
  
They are standing in a wide living room right now, but he shrugs, unsure.  
  
“I don't know.”  
  
“Kid?”  
  
And it's all kinds of wrong, letting him see her fear, showing him that she's searching for his reassurance, but... _he brought them here._  
  
 _He recognized the street, the town sign, Granny's..._  
  
“I don't know, Ma. It's weird. Like, I've been here, but I don't remember.”  
  
That's when she sees the pictures on the mantelpiece. There is the dark-haired woman, dressed in something that looks like a designer dress, smiling, holding a boy in a tight embrace.  
  
 _No, not a boy, Henry._  
  
Unsure what to make of this, Emma moves toward the pictures. She takes them in one by one, feeling her anxiety rising.  
  
Henry chuckles, but it sounds more like a horrified noise than a sound of amusement.  
  
“Did I have a twin you gave up for adoption?”  
  
His innocent attempt at a joke makes Emma's ears ring, reduces her vision to only a small circle of light. She feels herself coming unusually close to passing out, so she quickly drops down on the big couch.  
  
"Ma?"  
  
“It's okay, Henry.”  
  
“I'll get you a glass of water.”  
  
He's out of the room before she can protest. They haven't been in every room yet. Who knows what dangers could be lurking in the next room? But before she can call out for him, he's coming into the room again.  
  
He watches her with concern, handing over a glass of water. She looks at it questioningly.  
  
"It was in the fridge, in a closed bottle."  
  
He scrunches up his face in thought, obviously holding something back. She tilts her head, giving him a look. She might be living a strange nightmare, but she's still his mother and he's still her son. He falters almost immediately.  
  
"I didn't even have to look for the kitchen, I just knew where it was...”  
  
And that's something they'll have to talk about later. Right now, though, all they need to do is get out. Because this is too weird, even for her fantasy loving son.  
  
So she gets up, slowly, testing her dizziness levels. Fortunately it seems like that moment is gone. Emma feels fine.  
  
As fine as one can feel in a situation like this.  
  
 _It's a dream._  
  
 _It must be._  
  
But just in case it's not, she grabs Henry's arm.  
  
“Henry, let's go.”  
  
“No! Ma, we have to stay! We have to find out what this is!”  
  
“No, we definitely don't.”  
  
Emma puts all the sincerity she doesn't feel in this statement, powered up by fear.  
  
“We don't have to do anything but leave right now. We'll drive back home.”  
  
“Home? We've just been in New York for a half a year. It's no more home than Chicago, where we left everything behind!”  
  
Emma flinches, because usually Henry is a happy kid. He seldomly complains that they've moved around so much, but of course it must hurt him. _Of course it does._  
  
She deflates, takes a deep breath, turns around and crouches down to his eye level.  
  
“I'm sorry, Henry. I really am. And you know that I promised that we're gonna stay in New York, which is why I bought our current apartment instead of renting it. I'm going to keep my word. But right now we need to leave this place behind, because there is something strange going on here and I'm not sure we're safe.”  
  
Henry nods slowly and Emma lets out a relieved sigh. She was afraid that he'd be too deep in his adventure to listen to her. He smiles and opens his mouth, probably to suggest doing recon tomorrow, but then his gaze falls on something behind her and his face grows ashen.  
  
“Henry?”  
  
Scared, she turns around, but they are still alone. There is nothing more unusual in the room. Confused she follows his gaze to the couch table.  
  
There’s a picture, folded and unfolded several times. It seems like it was taken inside of that diner they just saw, Granny's or something, during a big party. The dark-haired woman is sitting on the counter, helping herself to some Lasagna. No, she is putting some on the plate of a dark-haired boy sitting next to her. They are happily smiling at each other.  
  
Behind them, with one hand at the boy's shoulder, stands a woman. She is clearly talking to someone who isn't in the picture but her smile, Emma's smile, is directed at the woman next to Henry.  
  
“You were here, too.”  
  
Something inside Emma shifts. The panic is still there, and if she's being honest with herself it's rising, rather than abating, but there is also a strange sense of belonging.  
  
It has something to do with the big smile she's wearing in that picture.  
  
“Yes, apparently I was.”  
  
“We need to figure this out,” Henry insists, no longer loudly, but intently and Emma wonders if maybe, this... fervor is worse.  
  
“Henry, it's getting dark outside, and it's still creepy here. Why don't we drive up to our hotel and come back tomorrow?”  
  
 _Or drive home and forget this ever happened,_ though every instinct she has tells her that this is important. _And scary as hell._  
  
“Right after breakfast?” he insists and Emma finds herself nodding.  
  
“Maybe even before breakfast!”  
  
Finally, the dark look Henry gives her, is something akin to normalcy.  
  
“I'm a growing man, I need breakfast!”  
  
“You're a boy.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
“My cute little, little baby boy,” she coos and he's laughing and it's going to be fine. They will find their way through this.

* * *

The fact that she feels like everything's going to be fine doesn't do much to chase her rising anxiety levels away. Instead she feels like she's being torn apart on the inside. Her instincts tell her to stay, solve the mystery, while her logical mind wants to run as far away as possible. It can’t get any weirder than that, turning around the fact that usually her logical mind needs her to stay while her emotions force her to run.  
  
"Ma?" Henry queries, subdued, while they leave the little town behind them.  
  
"Yes, Henry?"  
  
"We are coming back, right?"  
  
"Yes," she promises, feeling like there is no other way. He nods, relieved.  
  
"Because we have to find her."  
  
There is no question who he's talking about and in her heart Emma knows that he's right.  
  
It's that stupid feeling that makes her turn the car onto a partially hidden slope; the path clearly meant to be driven by a motorcycle. She shakes her head at that thought; she's never ridden a motorcycle in her life. The facts her brain suddenly knows about them can only come from some stupid magazine. Maybe she read about them in prison, before Henry.  
  
Her life had always been divided into two categories. Before Henry and after. There is nothing wrong with dividing your life like that; having a child changes things. Still, sometimes it feels like she lost something at the same time when Henry came into her world.  
  
Setting motorbikes and happiness aside, she follows her intuition down that barely existent lane, ignoring Henry's curious questions until they reach a well at the end of the lane.  
  
"I think I've been here before," she slowly explains as she gets out of the car.  
  
"Ma?"  
  
Tentatively Henry shoulders his backpack and follows her. Emma only stops right in front of the well, laying her hands on top of the little cement circle, the feeling of the rough stone burning under her fingertips. Her elbows and knees prickle, a remembrance of climbing up the well from within.  
  
Which sounds completely ridiculous and therefore perfectly fits into her current life.  
  
"Have you been here before?" she asks Henry carefully, turning around to meet his eyes. He's holding his hands up, looking at them like they are explosive.  
  
"My hands are tingly and I feel strange here."  
  
"Strange?"  
  
His eyes meet hers and she is pretty sure her twelve year old boy isn't capable of looking that sad and angry at the same time.  
  
"It hurts," he explains. His voice is trembling and he sounds incredibly scared.  
  
Without hesitation Emma pulls Henry into a tight hug.  
  
"It's okay. I promise, it's going to be okay."  
  
"I don't understand," he mumbles into her shoulder. As much as he wants to be a brave adventurer, he is just a frightened little child in this moment.  
  
"I love you, okay? And we're going to figure this out. No matter what is going on, you're safe, safe with me."  
  
These are reassurances she can't entirely keep, but she knows he needs to hear this considering how tightly he is squeezing her back.  
  
She rubs comforting circles on his back, finding that the familiar motion manages to calm her as well.

For a moment Emma closes her eyes, giving Henry the calm he needs.  
  
For a moment she ignores the urge to get closer to the well.  
  
For a moment she pretends everything is fine.  
  
Unfortunately it's that moment that changes everything.  
  
When Emma opens her eyes she finds them surrounded by a thick white cloud. A cloud that's emerging from the well. Instinctively she pulls Henry even closer to her.  
  
“Ma?”  
  
“Don't look!”  
  
Of course it's too late. Henry turns his head, his eyes growing big.  
  
“What is happening?”  
  
“I have no idea,” Emma admits, while the ground falls out from underneath their feet. She desperately holds on to Henry as the white cloud pulls them into the well.

* * *

Emma struggles like crazy the moment she realizes what is happening. She uses all her willpower to hold on to Henry and get them back up. It's magic that's pulling them in, so magic should be able to get them back out.  
  
Unfortunately her lessons with Regina hadn't gotten to teleporting. Not to mention that one time she almost set them on fire instead of teleporting.  
  
 _Regina._  
  
 _Snow._  
  
 _David._  
  
Suddenly her lungs deflate. She takes a rattling, desperate breath as they hit the ground in a tumble.  
  
Tugging Henry close to her, Emma has no idea how she manages to land on her back with him safely on top of her, but she is happy that she does.  
  
As happy as she can be with the breath knocked out of her by sudden awareness and her son. She rolls Henry down from her and struggles to get air into her lungs.  
  
Pictures of her life overstrain her brain.  
  
 _Her boxes arriving in Mary-Margaret's apartment; Henry, motionless on a hospital bed; a dragon; desperate brown eyes; her son standing in her doorway on her birthday wearing an impish smile; Regina in her personal space at the mines, asking her for help; Graham, dying in her arms; a wolf; a mausoleum; a hit to her head. Hearts in boxes; Ruby hugging her, calling her a friend; she's giving Neal the necklace back; she's being hurtled through the air on the Evil Queen's porch; she's being hugged by her parents for the first time; she's standing next to Regina in the mines, helping her to stop an explosion with magic; they’re moving planets; she's carrying her out of a burning building; she's saying goodbye to her parents, goodbye to Regina, goodbye to everyone and Regina is promising her new memories._  
  
There is less and so much more swirling into each other, happiness at finding a home, slowly letting go of a loneliness she has felt all of her life, the fact that she was on her own her entire life. That there was no Henry, that…  
  
It's confusing and overwhelming and too much, so very much.  
  
It gets worse when she feels the ground under her, smells the scent of deep, rich forest and opens her eyes to find Henry's. His cheeks are wet from the tears he's been crying. He looks so much older than the son she has spent the last couple of months with, his eyes full of pain that her protected little boy hadn't known.  
  
Emma lays her hands on his shoulders, trying to comfort him, to help him to sort through emotions that even before the loss of his memories he had hardly been able to deal with.  
  
When his breathing returns to normal, he looks at her with so much hurt and hope, it breaks her heart all over again.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
Emma nods immediately and hugs him close.  
  
“We'll find her,” she promises, disregarding her parents' slogan. This is about family. And Regina is family.


	3. Chapter 3

It takes Emma and Henry a lot more time to collect themselves than is prudent, considering just where they are. But there are conflicting realities to be arranged and guilt to be accepted. Emma has a hard time breathing, knowing that she has given up her baby boy. But Henry just holds on tighter.  
  
She remembers his guilt just before Regina destroyed the curse.  
  
The silent tears that are rolling down her face are for the both of them.  
  
But when she fully realizes just where they are and what danger that might entail, Emma forces herself to keep it together. She gets up quickly and helps Henry to his feet.  
  
“Okay, kid. What have we got?”  
  
He gives her a blank look, until she gestures to his backpack.  
  
“All I have on me are car keys, my mobile phone and gum. I don't think any of that will be of much help here.”  
  
“No,” he immediately agrees. She takes in the woods with wide eyes while he blindly opens the backpack.  
  
“We'd need a sword, right?”  
  
His impish grin makes her heart swell. She prays to whatever gods reign over this land that this will be nothing more than a big adventure to Henry and smiles back at him.  
  
“Are you telling me you're hiding one in your backpack?”  
  
“No.”  
  
He shrugs, unconcerned.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
What he actually produces is almost as good. There are some sweets in his backpack, two apples, some comics, a second scarf, some Apollo bars, a single bottle of water (half-empty) a notebook with elvish scribbles and...  
  
“My barlow?”  
  
He looks sheepish, but not the least bit guilty.  
  
“Remember the last time the bug gave up on us in the middle of nowhere? We had to wait hours for help, because without it you couldn't get to the right parts of the engine.”  
  
“So you packed my knife?”  
  
Henry lifts his eyebrows, giving her a haughty look that she finally recognizes.  
  
“Are you complaining?”  
  
She snaps the barlow away from him, affirms that it's safely folded together and puts it into her jeans.  
  
“Yes, I am. My twelve year old son doesn't need a knife in his backpack.”  
  
Giving him an ugly look, just because he's right, she adds: “I think your mom would agree with me.”  
  
For a moment they both look at each other, unsure, but then he shrugs.  
  
“She'd blame you for letting me near your knives at all.”  
  
Emma shakes her head, ignoring him and how right he is. He looks at her, scrunched up eyebrows, set mouth, displaying all the uncertainty in the world. Emma puts her hand on his arm.  
  
“We'll find her.”  
  
But his expression doesn't change in the slightest.  
  
“Do you even have any idea where we are, Ma?”  
  
It's his tone, so strongly resembling Regina, that she only barely stifles the desire to roll her eyes. She does, however, stick out her tongue. Something she had felt the urge to do countless times in Regina’s presence, something she had done so often in Henry’s company.  
  
“We just need to find the nearest road,” she starts explaining, sounding more confident than she actually feels.  
  
“It's as easy as that. There are many roads that lead through the forest and we're just a traveling duo of mother and son as long as we don't see a crest.”  
  
“A crest?”  
  
“A family crest. Honestly, Henry, I have no idea what this world looks like now. It's been almost half a year since they all went back. They might be back to their ways from the Middle Ages. If we meet anyone, we don't tell them who we are, unless their crest says we can trust them.”  
  
“But I thought I was a Prince!”  
  
“True, which makes you an awesome kid to kidnap and demand ransom for. So did you look at the family crests with David while we were away?”  
  
He shakes his head slowly.  
  
“No, we mostly practiced sword fighting.”  
  
 _Figures the one useful thing her father could have taught him, he failed to think of._  
  
“Remember the emblem that was on his sword?”  
  
“Sure?”  
  
He bounces alongside her while she leads him through almost the same conversation she had with Snow when they arrived here last year. Only Henry, it seems, is a bit faster to comprehend the differences in the various crests because he actually understands the meanings; thanks to Regina.  
  
“She used to tell me bedtime stories, where we'd give each animal a meaning. I learned later that they are the same meanings used for crests in the Middle Ages. I thought she was really intelligent, but she was...”  
  
“A Queen,” Emma reminds him, her tone permitting no dissent.  
  
“Henry, we will find Regina's castle. And whether we find my parents or her first... Or them together,” they both wince at that, unsure how that could have worked out, but hoping for the better, “we'll talk about all of this, okay? But right now...”  
  
Right now she's straining to identify all the noises around her. Logically, she knows that she has little to no chance of detecting whether they're being followed, but she's prepared to fight.  
  
“Do you...?” Henry swallows visibly, before he tries again.  
  
“Do you think they are okay? That they got along?”  
  
She takes a second to consider that loaded question. He knows when she's lying. There is no question about that. And she promised to be honest with him. So she nods slowly.  
  
“I hope they got along, Henry,” he visibly deflates before she is finished, “But I know they are okay.”  
  
Big hopeful eyes let her know that she found the right words.  
  
“Your mom is a lot of things, but she surely is a fighter, Henry. And so are your grandparents. They know how to survive.”  
  
She nods for emphasis and he seems to be okay with her answer, smiling.  
  
“I think you're right. I think we'd feel it if something was wrong.”  
  
He puts his hand on his heart.  
  
“Right here.”  
  
His certainty makes Emma falter, both mentally and physically. She stumbles over a tree root, only to be met with the end of a sword at the back of her neck in the next moment.  
  
“Halt, stranger.”  
  
Standing extremely still, Emma swallows. Her barlow is uselessly in her jeans. She throws a glance to Henry, happy to see that he isn't being threatened. He's holding his hands up in surrender though, looking painfully helpless. So she turns halfway to her aggressor.  
  
"Listen, whatever you want, we're just..."  
  
"Silence. I ask the questions, you answer."  
  
Without care for her life, Emma turns around fully, taking in the familiar black and red armor of the petite soldier, complete with helmet. She thinks that she recognized the voice correctly.  
  
"Mulan?"  
  
In a smooth motion the helmet is taken off, revealing long dark hair.  
  
"Emma?"  
  
Mulan stares at her in something akin to shock. It takes Emma a second to recognize the unfamiliar expression on Mulan's face. The soldier had seemed impenetrable to human emotions, even when Cora had taken Aurora's heart, she had portrayed nothing but fierce determination.  
  
That first observation doesn't prepare her for the following bone crushing hug in the slightest.  
  
"Hey! Let go of my mom!" Henry shouts loudly, apparently so intimidated by the armor, he doesn't recognize the hug for what it is.  
  
Emma grins at him.  
  
"It's okay, kid. This is Mulan."  
  
He looks from her to Mulan and back, until his eyes widen in awe.  
  
"That is so awesome!"  
  
Emma rolls her eyes. He _is_ her kid.  
  
"What he means is that he's honored to meet you."  
  
Mulan makes a motion that hints at a bow.  
  
"The honor is mine, Prince Henry."  
  
But she turns immediately back to Emma.  
  
"You were loud enough that I could hear you from the road."  
  
Emma does the only thing she can do and shrugs with a sheepish grin on her face.  
  
"Well not everyone has freakishly good senses like you. Where are we?"  
  
"Near the borders. It is not safe here. You need to move fast.”  
  
“Can you tell us where our family is?”  
  
Although they had gotten along rather well, Emma can’t help but remember the distinct reaction Mulan had to Regina’s name. Now though Mulan simply tilts her head.  
  
“I'm on my way to your parents' castle myself. But we must hurry.”  
  
“Great,” Emma agrees, ignoring Henry’s anxious gaze.  
  
“So you wouldn't mind our company?”  
  
“Of course not. However I am not alone. You have to help me with my companion.”  
  
Emma finds herself nodding carefully.  
  
“Is Aurora with you? Is she hurt?”  
  
“No, not hurt. She is with child.”  
  
Emma swallows. Mulan’s face is telling her something she does not want to know.  
  
“Lead the way.”  
  
“With child?” Henry whispers behind her.  
  
“Pregnant,” she answers, hoping against hope that her imagination is running away with her.  
  
“Oh,” Henry intones, following her as she follows Mulan.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
It takes them only a couple of steps to reach the road, making Emma suspect that they have been walking parallel to it instead of toward it, due to her exceptionally bad observational skills of everything forest related. Fortunately there is an open carriage on the road, two horses in front of it, Aurora standing next to one, patting it. She looks round, but healthy and fortunately not in pain.  
  
As soon as Aurora sees them, she gives a radiant smile, maybe a little bit wider than the situation warrants. After all Mulan seems tense.  
  
“Emma!”  
  
She waddles toward them and engulfs Emma in a tight hug.  
  
“Snow knew you would find your way back!”  
  
Emma doesn't have the heart to tell her that it was only a string of coincidences that brought them here, mainly a vague feeling.  
  
“Is that Henry?”  
  
Without a proper answer Aurora pulls him into a hug too.  
  
“Your grandparents will be so happy to see you.”  
  
“Aurora, you need to get back into the carriage.”  
  
There is something new about Aurora, something strange. She seems a bit off. It takes Emma a moment to notice her eyes glistening and she wobbles when they help her back to the carriage. Emma gives Mulan a knowing look after she lifts Henry up and swings herself up to the front, next to Mulan.  
  
“She's high.”  
  
“I gave her something for the pain.”  
  
“She is in labor!?”  
  
“The child is coming.”  
  
“Is the water broken?”  
  
Mulan simply nods and directs the horses to start.  
  
“We still have about six hours until we are at your parents’ castle. It is her first child, so we might be lucky.”  
  
 _It’s insane. Really completely insane._  
  
Emma’s not sure that the rustling of the carriage is all that good for Aurora, but the young Princess (Queen?) looks only slightly ruffled.  
  
“What did you give her?”  
  
“I put the essence of some roots into her water. She feels pain, but is more relaxed.”  
  
Mulan’s face is strained.  
  
“She didn’t react very well to my appearance and my order to get out of the castle.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“A lot.”  
  
Emma heaves a great sigh.  
  
“Mulan, Henry and I just got into this world. Our memories were erased. We got them back only moments ago, which means that in addition to feeling slightly crazy I have no idea what anyone’s been up to for the last couple of months, just as much as I have no idea what politics are in effect.”  
  
Mulan nods, almost like she expected Emma’s outburst.  
  
“I was afraid of that.”  
  
Mulan's entire behavior is unnerving. From the way she keeps anxiously glancing back to Aurora to the curious tilt of her head as she examines Emma.  
  
“I haven’t understood the logistics behind it, and I haven’t been terribly interested in them beyond the fact that there is very little that we can do.”  
  
“Okay…”  
  
It sounds like a terrible approach to deliver news, so Emma tries to brace herself. Mulan shakes her head slightly, but looks stoically forward.  
  
“There was a stipulation for ending the curse that tried to take over Storybrooke. For your people to avoid another curse, they broke the original one and went back to our land. They didn't anticipate that the Queen’s magic wasn’t enough to do it properly. It worked, somehow, but the magic wasn’t completely stopped. Since then the magic is at the borders of our realm, preventing us from traveling anywhere else, closing in. Everything in its way is being destroyed.”  
  
“You don’t know that!” Aurora exclaims from behind.  
  
“They could simply be taken back to the land of Storybrooke.”  
  
“Queen Regina spent months trying to figure this out, Aurora. It doesn't take anyone to Storybrooke. They disintegrate.”  
  
“I refuse to believe that!”  
  
Emma swallows. She follows Mulan’s example and ignores Aurora’s outcry, trying to keep the looming horror at bay.  
  
“Mulan, how far is this... magic away from us?”  
  
“It moves very slowly.”  
  
In that moment whatever drugs Aurora has in her system stop working. She sobs loudly.  
  
“It's at my castle. It was supposed to take me away!”  
  
“Away?”  
  
“You have to think of the baby, Aurora,” Mulan softly admonishes her and Aurora actually starts to breathe evenly, stroking her belly.  
  
“Mulan?”  
  
“Don't worry, Emma. You're lucky I heard the two of you. Everyone is supposed to travel to the origin of the curse, it seems to be the center of the oncoming magic.”  
  
“Which is?”  
  
“Your parents’ castle. Which is why we're on our way there now.”  
  
Looking back Emma meets Henry's eyes, sharing his fear.  
  
“Where is Regina?”  
  
Strangely, Mulan almost seems sad when she shakes her head.  
  
“I’m sorry, Emma. She went away in the middle of the night, telling me to round up everyone left behind. She is certain that no one who gets into that magic will survive. If we don’t manage to stop it, it will devour the whole realm.”  
  
“What is the plan?”  
  
Because Emma refuses to entertain the possibility that there is none. There has to be a plan. There is always a plan.  
  
Mulan throws her a look that is as plain as it is simple.  
  
“No.”  
  
A terrible feeling spreads inside of her. Emma is the plan, even though she has no clue how to use her magic.

_Regina is going to kill me for exposing Henry to this kind of danger._

Emma wants nothing more than to take Henry and get him back into the real world. All of this has to be some terrible mistake.  
  
“No one knows except Snow and me.”  
  
How does one stop something that sounds terribly like a black hole? Coming from all sides?  
  
“What other plans are there?”  
  
But her question is feeble, useless. It's only confirmed by the look Mulan gives her.  
  
For a moment Emma hides her face in her hands, whispering more to herself than to anyone else.  
  
“I have no idea how to use my magic.”  
  
“We are aware of that.”  
  
Mulan sounds terribly aloof. Part of Emma suspects that, though Mulan has stopped hoping, Emma's appearance has just renewed her desire to hope.  
  
“Do you have any idea where Regina might be?”  
  
“No, but I have been away for a week now.”  
  
“Does it take that long to get to Aurora’s castle?”  
  
“It did take that long to convince her to leave. Snow's message that we didn't have a minute to spare literally reached me a second before the castle's walls started crumbling.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
There is a story behind that, but apparently Mulan is not ready to tell it. One look to a glowing and smiling Aurora makes sure that she isn’t about to say anything coherent.  
  
“Oh!”  
  
“What?”  
  
Henry shifts anxiously away from Aurora, who is suddenly very pale and scrunches up her face in pain. Mulan immediately stops the carriage.  
  
A moment later Emma and Henry have changed places.  
  
While Henry is regaled with some of Mulan’s stories, tries some food from the Enchanted Forest and falls asleep secure against the railing, Emma spends the rest of the way desperately trying to calm Aurora through her labor. It seems more and more like an impossible task, all the while hearing Mulan’s words in the back of her head.  
  
 _Magic is destroying this world, it’s coming from every border as a result of the destruction of both curses._  
  
 _Had Regina known that this could happen?_  
  
 _Had there been anything that they could have done differently?_  
  
It occurs to Emma for the first time that Regina could have taken Henry out of Storybrooke and left the rest of them to their fate. Regina never had a cursed personality, so for all intents and purposes she should have been able to leave the town. The rest would have been subjected to Pan's curse, not able to follow, except for Emma herself. But Regina didn't take Henry and run; no, she sacrificed the person that she loves most to keep everyone from being cursed again.  
  
However, that train of thought might make Regina too noble. Maybe she hadn’t been able to leave town. Or maybe she knew that Henry would have never accepted them running away like that.  
  
Maybe that’s not what’s important right now.  
  
Right now she has to hold Aurora’s hand and keep talking about soothing nonsense.

* * *

It takes the rest of the day and the complete loss of feeling in  her left hand for a partially restored castle to take form at the end of their road, dark against the blue of the twilight.  
  
“Wow,” Henry breathes from the front seat.  
  
“Argh!” Aurora screams next to Emma.  
  
They race through the opened gates to find dozens of busy people milling around.  
  
The first people to surround Emma are the dwarfs. They all try to hug her until she diverts the attention to Aurora. Because they are dwarfs and not very adept at carrying around a fully grown human (unless they’re in a glass coffin, it's up to Mulan and her to bring Aurora inside.  
  
Luckily Mulan seems to know the way. They end up in a little side hallway that leads to the grand hall. Although Emma has been here before, she hardly recognizes anything. The hallway is littered with beds, most of them empty. While they lay Aurora atop one of them, Doc tells her that they are in the room for the ill people, his domain. She wonders where Whale is, but doesn't ask, because no one mentions him. She also doesn't ask why a dwarf that got his name from a pickaxe gets to deliver a baby, but then she remembers that he delivered her, so who is she to complain?  
  
Emma stays to help, because it’s what she promised Aurora on the way and she never promises anything unless she intends to keep it. She does, however, send Henry away with Grumpy to go meet his grandparents and bear the great news of their arrival, desperately hoping they haven't just come in time to share their disaster.  
  
Snow hurtles into the room the same minute the baby is born. Emma's hand feels mangled, but Mulan is holding a healthy newborn and Aurora gives her first real smile in weeks.  
  
Snow doesn't wait to engulf Emma in a tight hug.  
  
"You found us."  
  
And there is so much history in that sentence, so much she abhorred a year ago, but Snow sounds so entirely different it makes Emma's insides turn to ice. There is no joy in her words, just an icy determination.  
  
There is the thing about the afterbirth and the child needs to be cleaned, but Aurora thanks her and sends her away to be properly welcomed by her parents.  
  
So she follows Snow, feeling younger than she ever has, to a small hall that she knows to be the council room. Like everything else it’s restored and filled with people. Snow keeps her hand safely on Emma's arm, seeming to reassure herself that she's really there.  
  
Before Emma can take anything in, David turns her to him and tightly puts his arms around her. It feels protective, like he wants to hold on to her as firmly as he can and lead her to save the world at the same time.  
  
"How?"  
  
She gives him a crooked smile.  
  
"Dreams and intuition."  
  
It's the most direct answer and he accepts it with a nod, like he hadn't expected anything else. Granny is next and then Emma gets welcomed by rest of the room, except Ruby who is sitting next to Henry on a round table, keeping him occupied with an old book.  
  
Apparently everyone is still up, studying maps and books by candle light. Emma decides to worry about that in a second.  
  
First she walks over, ruffles Henry’s hair and hugs Ruby. Partly because she has hugged just about everyone else in the room, but mostly because she wants to.  
  
Ruby looks at her with an undecipherable expression on her face, the same sadness mirrored by everyone else tugs at her mouth and eyes, but she also seems genuinely happy to see Emma.  
  
“I missed you,” Ruby confesses and Emma’s smile widens. This friendship feels real.  
  
“I’m sure I would have missed you, too.”  
  
It’s an unusual response, but it makes Ruby chortle. Emma raises her eyebrows in challenge.  
  
“Now, do you think anyone will tell me what’s going on?”  
  
“You should talk to Snow. We’ll keep an eye on Henry.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
While Emma walks to her mother, she watches Ruby giving Henry a sad smile and affectionately pushing his bangs out of his face.  
  
“Dare I ask where Belle is?”  
  
Instead of answering, her mother just shakes her head.  
  
“Don’t you want to ask about someone else?”  
  
“Regina? Do you know anything? Mulan told me she disappeared. But... Is there.. ?”  
  
Snow gives her a strange look, but she nods.  
  
“We tried finding her, with no success so far.”  
  
“Well, where did you look? You know, I could help? Finding people is kinda my thing. And with magic acting up I suppose we could need Regina’s help, unless you know what I need to do.”  
  
Emma shrugs, grinning sheepishly, but her mother looks at her somberly. She directs her out of the room and into a dark hallway.  
  
“Emma, I don’t know what Mulan has told you. But magic isn’t just acting up. It’s destroying the lands. It’s getting faster and we have no chance of survival. We’re in the middle of the storm, but…”  
  
Snow sighs helplessly.  
  
“There is not much we can do. We lost several people trying to figure it out. At first it was just a distant fog at the realm’s end, but it kept getting nearer and nearer. Last month we watched Rumple’s castle crumbling down in front of our very eyes.”  
  
“Good riddance.”  
  
“We were late, Emma. Shortly before that Belle ran away to find him.”  
  
The smile on Emma’s face freezes. That explains Ruby’s sadness, having your best friend taken from you in that way…  
  
“Neal was with her.”  
  
Emma feels like she’s covered in ice, she struggles to take a deep breath.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Quite. They were adamant to search the whole castle and thought they had more time.”  
  
Numb, Emma can barely pay attention to where her mother is leading her. She only notices her surroundings once she feels cold wind ruffling her hair. They are standing on one of castle’s towers. There is nothing but thick forest surrounding them, and in the distance there is the ominous cloud of magic, dark and threatening, compared to the almost light night in front of them. It’s not terribly close, but close enough.  
  
“How?”  
  
“We don’t know. Regina says that her magic wasn’t strong enough to bring everyone back to our land and that the act of it ripped apart the seams between the realms, leaving us vulnerable to the magic that enables one to travel between lands. That magic, the magic that usually keeps the realms apart, is bleeding into our world. Or better, our land is bleeding into the nothingness that exists behind the magic."

“Are you sure?”  
  
Snow meets her eyes and nods.  
  
“Regina was sure.”  
  
“What was her solution?”  
  
Because there is no way that Regina didn’t have a solution. She didn’t just run away.  
  
“There was none, Emma. She...,” Snow stops and looks out to the swirling magic.  
  
“She said the irony was that your magic might be able to help.”  
  
There is a new edge to Snow’s voice.  
  
“How?”  
  
Emma whispers, unsure whether she wants to know the answer.  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
Snow sounds just as subdued as Emma feels.  
  
“So?”  
  
Her mother’s eyes are suddenly blazing as she turns to her.  
  
“So, you shouldn’t be here! How did you even get here? Emma, as much as I wished for you during the last weeks, now…”  
  
Snow’s shoulders slump, her ire fading as fast as it came up and Emma doesn't know if she should be happy about it, because she sure as hell isn't in any shape to give a pep talk to her mother.  
  
“You can’t be here, Emma. The thought that you were safe… .”  
  
“Didn’t you hope that I'd come back? White knight in shining armor and everything?”  
  
A shadow darts over Snow's face, before she sets her mouth in determination. She gently takes Emma's face into her hands.  
  
“We will find a way, Emma. Because it is the only way to save you, to save Henry. So I won’t allow anyone to give up hope.”  
  
Emma gives her a crooked smile, internally relieved. Now that’s the woman she got to know as her mother and, dare she say, friend. She puts her hand hand on top of Snow’s.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
There is so much more to be said, but for now it is all that Emma can say and it is enough. Snow nods slowly and Emma almost thinks that she understands.  
  
When Snow steps back, Emma looks around once more, shivering when her eyes fall upon the dark cloud.  
  
“How long do we have?”  
  
“About a month at best, two weeks at worst.”  
  
“Okay, then how do we find Regina?”  
  
Snow straightens her shoulders, obviously happy that Emma is determined. She leads them back into the council room to a desk in the back. It’s covered with books of various shapes and sizes. They are all unmarked. Some are thrown open, loose papers with notes covering them.  
  
The handwriting is vaguely familiar to her. Mostly from returned police reports or short announcements of important city council meetings.  
  
“What is this?”  
  
Snow has the decency to look ashamed.  
  
“She ran away, so Blue and I went to her castle. We didn’t find her, but I found her diaries and I thought that we might detect something that could help us to locate her.”  
  
It’s actually a surprisingly good idea, but…Emma leans closer.  
  
“Aren’t those from like, thirty years ago?”  
  
“One is new, but there’s only science stuff about the magic in there, no personal notes that I could find.”  
  
“And the old ones?”  
  
“Technical stuff about the towns in her kingdom, taxes, invitation lists to balls, remarks on how to handle some of the visiting nobles, there’s some pretty mean stuff about King George and James and through the years it becomes even meaner. I stopped reading, but David kept looking for something.”  
  
“Mean stuff?”  
  
Emma raises her eyebrow. What does Snow consider 'mean', coming from the Evil Queen?  
  
“Details about my father’s... well, you know. I guess she included those in case I ever got hands on them.”  
  
It takes all that Emma has to keep her mouth shut, because it is actually the best way to ensure that the kid living with you doesn’t look too closely into your diaries.  
  
“Details?”  
  
“On what he liked, I don’t think those are even true.”  
  
Judging by the revulsion on Snow’s face and the few things King George liked to say about women, Emma has a slight suspicion that Snow is wrong. However it is Snow’s father, her own grandfather they’re talking about and though Emma has never met the guy, Snow clearly loved him. It’s no use having a discussion about something that neither of them can do more than speculate about.  
  
“Are you sure that there isn’t more in them? In the new one?”  
  
“We’re sure,” Ruby answers from behind them. Emma flinches at her sudden appearance and looks for Henry. He is sitting by the fire with David. He is safe.  
  
“Okay, then give me the new one. It might help me to understand what I am supposed to do to stop this.”  
  
“Don’t you know? Magic is about emotion, Emma.”  
  
Ruby lectures her, but her voice sounds terribly detached. Emma swallows. _First things first._ Ruby clearly needs help, but to get that help, they need to stay alive.  
  
“What do you know about magic?”  
  
Ruby shrugs.  
  
“A lot, I guess. From what Regina told me, I possess natural magic. When I turn into the wolf, I use the energy around me to create mass. It’s all very complicated on a subatomic level, if Regina is to be believed. But I listened to her when she ranted about magic and how to stop it. Sometimes Belle would get into the discussion, you know, because of the things she learned from Rumple.”  
  
“Sure, that makes sense.”  
  
And strangely it does.  
  
“However, it is late, and we need to retire. Foregoing rest won’t save us either.”  
  
It’s Snow, still trying to protect her. Emma smiles at her gratefully.  
  
“Do you have somewhere for Henry and me to sleep? I’d like to get him to bed. Has he eaten anything?”  
  
She starts to panic, wondering how much of a mother those last six months actually made her, despite having the memories of a life with him, until she feels a hand on her arm, Ruby’s.  
  
“Relax, he ate as soon as you arrived. You should think about your own diet.”  
  
Ruby is right, of course.  
  
“Sure. As soon as I get him to bed I’d like to come back and have a look at the magic theories.”  
  
Luckily Snow gives her a resigned nod.

* * *

Henry falls into his bed and is almost out immediately. Just not before he finds her eyes once more, a gaze too insistent for a twelve year old who is about to pass out.  
  
“You still think that you’ll find Mom?”  
  
“I will,” she promises, because there is no other way.  
  
She doesn’t want to stop and consider the urge to find Regina, doesn’t pause to ponder the dreams of dark eyes. Regina is their way to save everyone, to save themselves, so she has to find her.


	4. Chapter 4

When Emma comes back into the hall after bringing Henry to bed, there is very little new information for her. Mostly David repeats the story that Mulan, Snow and Ruby have already painted for her. Although it’s just more of the same, there is some dinner for her and he looks at her like she is a miracle sprung alive. It brings up all kinds of warring emotions for her, but she smiles at him, glad that he treats her like before, like she can’t do any wrong.  
  
Emma imagines he is just as torn as Snow, but she puts it to the back of her mind. She is not going to fail; _there won't be any goodbyes anymore._  
  
Her promise to Henry allows her to go to work with determination, so she looks through Regina's books (refusing to call them diaries).  
  
Because their castle is quasi center of the magic storm, it is overflown with every kind of people, from fugitives to visitors. The wing for visitors is filled to capacity, taken up by royalty and their maids. (David doesn't notice the look Emma gives him at the mention of maids. Ruby does though; she just shakes her head.) Most of the fugitives sleep on makeshifts beds in the ballrooms. And yes, the castle holds two of them.  
  
Still, everyone present in the council room has their own room to sleep in, but judging by the way David falls asleep at the table, Ruby sinks into her chair and Granny spreads out on blankets in the corner, they are used to spending their nights here.  
  
So Emma doesn't feel bad when she sits at the table and opens Regina's notebook. It is indeed filled with magical formulas, theories, the workings of light and dark magic, details of the workings of the curses and so on.  
  
It looks a lot like physics, chemistry, and biology thrown together to explain the inexplicable phenomenon of magic.  
  
Emma heaves a deep sigh and looks around. The only person who might have an inkling about science is her mother, being a teacher, but Mary Margaret once told her that she sucked at higher science, so that isn't an option either. She needs to figure it out for herself.  
  
The basic principles of magic are surprisingly easy to understand, but the farther she gets the more complicated it is.  
  
She needs Regina to help her understand the entirety of this. There is no way (barring sheer luck) that she'd be able to work her magic properly to close that bridge and save them. She doesn’t even know how to connect with the magic.  
  
Halfway through a terribly convoluted page, a blanket landing on her shoulders diverts her attention. She looks up to find Ruby smiling at her.  
  
“It's getting pretty cold.”  
  
“I don't feel cold, but it's comfy. Thanks Rubes.”  
  
Ruby squints at her, before she steps closer to her. She lets one hand hover above the diary.  
  
“It's emanating warmth. What are you doing to it?”  
  
“Nothing...”  
  
“Maybe not consciously, Emma, but your magic is reacting to something in the book. You should look for a hidden message, it could be protected by magic.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Still doubting magic? Try it!”  
  
Concentrating on her emotions (desperation?) Emma tries to unlock any message that the book might hold, going through the motions Regina has taught her, but although there is a slight tingling at the tips of her fingers, there is no result.  
  
She shakes her head at Ruby.  
  
“Sorry, I can't find anything.”  
  
“No worries, maybe it's just magical because of all the energy Regina put into it. Just try again later.”  
  
“Regina told me about unlocking messages in Neverland, after that debacle with the map. There is no message in this book, Ruby. Sorry.”  
  
With a shaky smile Ruby goes back to her chair, picks up a book, continuing her research on magical or non-magical solutions. As far as Emma understands, they’re looking for anything that might create a portal, ignoring Regina’s warning that no portal can cross through the magic. Their hopes are fueled by Emma’s arrival.  
  
Emma sighs and works through the page again. By now she knows that she might need all of her energy to counter the magic. She also knows that she needs to stop the curse at the beginning. Which means that she either has to go back to Storybrooke (not contemplating the irony of that) or she needs to find Regina. The latter would mean that the energy to destroy them somehow originates from Regina and that she lost all ability to stop it.  
  
An icy feeling courses through her.  
  
What if...?  
  
Regina disappeared without a warning or a note. Would she give herself to the magic, hoping that it would stop? Would she kill herself to stop the realm from collapsing?  
  
 _No, that... She couldn't have done that. There is no way..._  
  
But then.  
  
Regina has done this before.  
  
She had sacrificed herself to save everyone in town. Not Henry. He would have been safe if the detonation set up by Greg and Tamara had occurred. Again she had been able to take Henry and run, but she had stayed. Without Emma's help, she'd have died.  
  
A terrible feeling sets in Emma’s stomach. For the first time she is really afraid. Afraid that whatever strange emotion that has brought Henry and her here has done nothing but condemn them to die with everyone else.  
  
Her breath hitches, she has trouble breathing. A faint part of her conscience recognizes the signs of a panic attack. She thinks about pushing the chair back, putting her head between her legs, but the only thing she manages is another stinted breath.  
  
As she's about ready to give herself up to the panic, she feels the warmth Ruby just talked about. Emma opens her eyes to see the notebook under her hand glowing. Her breathing is still erratic, but the tension in her body is slowly dissipating.  
  
Exhausted, Emma puts her head on the table, concentrating on nothing but slow, regular breaths.  
  
Almost instantly her fear is gone, the sudden reprieve scaring her even more.  
  
There is no doubt anymore that there’s magic in the books, just like the fact that the magic is unusually friendly toward Emma.  
  
Curiously, Emma looks at the books once more. Some of them are still glowing slightly, some of them a light violet, some dark purple and some seem to tremble darkly.  
  
She stays away from the last ones, takes up the brightest one and opens it.  
  
There is a date that tells her pretty much nothing, but as she reads, it becomes apparent that this had been written before.  
  
Before everything.  
  
While her eyes take in a carefully listed diet, the right way to greet a noble, a king, how to behave at a formal dinner, her ears hear something else entirely.  
  
It's a free laughter that makes her close her eyes, giving in to the pull without a moment's hesitation.

* * *

_She's moving through the forest at top speed, leaving trees behind and she's leaning down, hiding from the harsh wind behind the warm neck of her horse, holding on with her knees to the sturdy body, lifting up from the saddle as her horse takes the jump over a low tree._   
  
_“Stop!”_   
  
_A voice sounds out from behind her, young, masculine and playful._   
  
_“Never!”_   
  
_Regina's voice answers immediately. Only, it's not Regina's, it's a younger voice, carefree, almost giddy._   
  
_She leads the horse over another tree and towards a thinner path, barreling through the forest, only barely stopping in front of a little stream. She slides down gracefully from Rocinante, pats him and lets herself fall into the warm grass of the clearing._   
  
_It takes a moment until she hears a second horse approaching, definitely slower than her earlier pace. Daniel dismounts from his horse, binds it to a nearby tree and sits down next to her._   
  
_“You ride like the devil.”_   
  
_Regina opens her eyes._   
  
_“Told you I'd win.”_   
  
_He nods._   
  
_“You did. So you can collect your prize.”_   
  
_“My prize? I thought this was just about honor?”_   
  
_“Well, you've kept your honor, having said the truth. I lost mine. Now I am in your debt.”_   
  
_“Oh, that's terrible!”_   
  
_Regina feigns shock, a hand over her heart, but there is mirth in her eyes, joy tugging at the corners of her mouth._   
  
_“What do you want me to do, Miss? To pay my debt?”_   
  
_“I don't know...”_   
  
_She tilts her head in mock consideration._   
  
_“There really is only one thing I can think of...”_   
  
_Daniel smiles softly. He leans in as if to kiss her. Her heart stops shortly only to continue on faster than before, but she pushes him back. She won that one._   
  
_“You have to unsaddle and groom Rocinante later, clean my saddle and polish his bridle.”_   
  
_Daniel leans back, taken by surprise._   
  
_“Really?”_   
  
_“Yes!”_   
  
_Regina leans in and kisses him, softly, ever so softly on the lips. His hand finds its way into her hair, entangling her braid, massaging her scalp and she feels herself melting into his touch, completely dazed by his closeness._   
  
_When he leans back and looks at her in admiration she smirks._   
  
_“And while you're doing all my work, I get to be the rich lady that's watching her stable boy work.”_   
  
_He looks at her incredulous, but as soon as she starts laughing, he shakes his head and his laughter chimes joyfully with hers._

* * *

Emma gasps and pushes herself away from the desk. She stares at the glowing books, the diaries, because she has no doubt anymore that this is exactly what they are, diaries.  
  
Regina wrote down nonsense to appease or confuse whoever found her diaries and kept her thoughts in another way, through magic.  
  
Emma shakes her head because it’s not possible. Regina had been adamant that she hadn't woven any magic until Rumple had taught her, that she had ignored her mother's attempts to make her use the magic that was inside of her.  
  
 _But maybe it had been instinctual at first? Burning her memories into her books with love, with positive emotions?_

It makes sense, considering that it was what started Emma’s own magic at first.  
  
Whatever way she puts it, she just invaded Regina's personal thoughts.  
  
Not enough, she witnessed an unquestioningly private moment.  
  
 _An unquestioningly happy moment._

Knowing that what she's doing is wrong on so many levels, Emma can’t help herself as she takes hold of the book once more, letting the magic guide her.

* * *

_“You're doing it wrong,” a soft familiar voice says behind her, but Regina refuses to stop. She's polishing the saddle with all her might, all the while knowing that the force she's putting into the motions is more than a little too much. She will most likely end up ruining the leather. Finally catching up to her mood, Daniel puts his hands on her shoulders._   
  
_“Regina...”_   
  
_He slowly takes her hands in his, removes the cloth and sets it aside. Slowly but surely, he puts his arms around her from behind._   
  
_For a moment she tenses up, caught up in the whirl of her emotions, her anger about her mother's behavior, the fact that she can never truly have what she wants, Daddy's failure to speak up for her, the sadness that's taking hold of her. His arms are tightening, his familiar scent permeating her nose, and finally she allows herself to lean back, lets herself fall into his embrace and settles into the feeling of security, no matter how wrong it is._   
  
_He can't keep her safe, not from Mother, but just in this moment, she allows herself to believe in the feeling that her heart conjures up, the safety, the warmth, the love._

* * *

Coming out of the memory, Emma forces herself to take a deep breath.  
  
And another.  
  
After what she has gathered about Regina's childhood, it is a complete mystery to her how Regina had retained the ability to completely let go. She was happy, even safe, in Daniel's arms.  
  
While Emma had certainly loved Neal, truly loved and trusted him, she had never once felt safe. She always feared that the real world would interfere, break them apart, just like it did, only in a betrayal she had never foreseen.

 _How the hell had Regina retained that capability?_  
  
With trembling hands Emma leans back into the chair.  
  
This doesn’t help her.  
  
Exposing herself to that kind of deep emotion seems to rob her of any kind of concentration, not to help her move forward.  
  
So she shakes her head and moves to the latest diary, chilled to the bone just thinking about what it might tell her about Regina's current emotions, but hopeful that it will be worth it.  
  
Unfortunately, it stays silent. She turns it in her hands a couple of times and concentrates, but there is nothing except the magical theories in Regina’s clean script.  
  
With a deep sigh that's something between relief and exhaustion, she puts her head on the table again. She feels a slight headache coming on, so she entangles her hair and moves a hand through her locks, sifting through the remaining diaries with the other one.  
  
She touches an open diary and without warning she's in another memory.

* * *

_A preteen girl is standing in front of her, brown locks tumbling over an expensive gown. Snow is wearing a decisive look on her face, holding herself with commanding poise._   
  
_“I need all of the cakes we tried when we went to King George's bakery. The chocolate one, the one with lemons, the one with strawberries and oh!”_   
  
_She stops pacing and looks at Regina, obviously wanting something from her._   
  
_“The apple cake you made in the summer, just before the wedding anniversary! It was delicious. You simply have to give Cook the recipe.”_   
  
_There is a murderous rage inside of Regina. For a moment she wants nothing more than to reach out and strangle Snow._   
  
_The next second she's plagued with guilt. She's looking at a child._   
  
_She cannot wish to kill a child._   
  
_“It's a family recipe, Snow. And I used the very apples from my tree, they are special.”_   
  
_“Then we use them!”_   
  
_“It's the middle of the winter. My tree isn't bearing fruit at the moment.”_   
  
_“But you have some left, right?”_   
  
_“I'm not sure.”_   
  
_Regina tries to divert her with a smile._   
  
_“Besides, it's an old family recipe, like I said. I can't just reveal it to everyone.”_   
  
_Unfortunately Snow is impervious to those kind of deflections. Snow is right. Always._   
  
_“But we're family! So you can tell it to me!”_   
  
_“So you can bake it yourself?”_   
  
_“So I can tell Cook!”_   
  
_There is another wave of murderous rage, under which Regina nearly crumbles. She knows her feelings towards Snow, but this…_

* * *

 Without pause Emma is tugged out of the memory and thrown into another one.

* * *

_She is galloping across a wide field, the first seedlings are just peeking out, the area vast and empty. The wind bites harder against her cheeks, especially where the tears are._   
  
_Her mother is still shrieking in her thoughts, reminding her that the choice she made was the wrong one. She outright rejected the advances of a neighboring prince, hadn't even bothered with the pleasantries._   
  
_Her mother was beside herself._   
  
_Which is probably the only reason she was able to escape on Rocinante. She isn't even leading him anymore. He knows that she just wants to get away and is galloping as fast as he can. They jump over a shallow stream, and just before they reach the forest, Rocinante starts trotting until he stops near a big tree. She slides off, pats him shortly until her legs give out from exhaustion._   
  
_Regina is resting against the tree, breathing evenly, taking in the smell of the bark, the forest, when she hears another rider approaching._   
  
_She doesn't have to look up to know who it is._   
  
_That is until a deliciously smelling apple tart is hovering under her nose._   
  
_“What?”_   
  
_Daniel grins widely._   
  
_“Eat it. It's an old family recipe. I promise it's delicious.”_   
  
_Despite herself, Regina finds herself smiling._   
  
_Under Daniel's careful examination she tries the pie._   
  
_“Wow.”_   
  
_It really is delicious._   
  
_“How...?”_   
  
_“My mom taught me how to bake it, but it tastes best with the really expensive apples from the market.”_   
  
_“You know, I have an apple tree.”_   
  
_“Do tell!”_   
  
_They neither talk about mother, nor the blue and red that is Regina’s face. Instead Daniel keeps their conversation light, somehow managing to pull her out of her mood, making her feel safe and loved._

* * *

It's teasing and laughter and Emma breaks free from the memory before it is over, because she doesn't know how to handle the mood shifts. Regina's feelings are all over the place. She literally has no idea how to protect herself, she just _is_ , in whatever moment she's in.  
  
It's terrifying.  
  
It's never been more intriguing.  
  
With a dry throat and trembling fingers Emma pulls the diary closer, discovering that the page is filled with details on Snow's birthday party. There is an order of apples marked due to the new emptiness of the supply stock and she can't help but feel a little sickened.  
  
Of course Snow hadn't deserved the amount of hate she had gotten from Regina, but what she just witnessed had been nothing but an entitled brat with no respect for the emotions of other people.  
  
Desperate to find a more positive note on Snow and curious about Regina's coping technique she turns the pages. After all Regina lived with Snow for years before she had Leopold killed.  
  
This time she takes a deep breath before she dives in.  
  
This time it is necessary.

* * *

_There are dozens of torn pages lying around Regina, shards of a broken vase cover the carpet in between remnants of yellow roses. Regina's hair is forming a wild halo around her red face._   
  
_She is raging._   
  
_The only thing unmarked is the bed. As soon as Regina realizes it, she pulls the blankets down, rips them apart with a fervor powered by magic. She doesn't even notice the blue energy crackling down the material, helping her to tear through it._   
  
_It's madness and it's justified._   
  
_After she has destroyed every single thing, she falls to the ground, not caring about the shards of glass that pierce her skin. She deserves it for being stupid._   
  
_For thinking that it doesn’t count._   
  
_It’s just her duty for the time being and she has to fulfill her duty and try to keep herself separate from it._   
  
_She has to..._   
  
_Hot tears of desperation fall from her face, leaving wet marks on her torn dress._   
  
_Her plans don't include this._   
  
_They simply don't._   
  
_She knows what Daniel would want her to do._   
  
_It's almost too easy to imagine him looking at her with his kind eyes, finding some part of her disaster that is good._   
  
_She also knows that she can't do it._   
  
_No matter how much she wishes that she could._   
  
_She knows Snow._   
  
_Just last week they had dinner with George and James._   
  
_It's obvious what becomes of royal children when no one decent is around to love and support them._   
  
_She would..._   
  
_She would **try**._   
  
_But she knows she **can't**._   
  
_It would be **his.**_   
  
_And that's…_   
  
_Enough to make her turn around and continue ripping the sheets into even tinier shreds. Right now she doesn’t just hate her life, she hates herself. She should be able to have this, should be able to provide, make a home..._   
  
_But this isn't a home and the anger that's the only thing holding her up provides nothing._   
  
_A rustle of fabric makes her whirl around. She carefully tries to control her face into an emotionless mask once she notices her visitor. It doesn't do any good to show Rumple anymore than he's already seen._   
  
_“Well, well, well, dearie. It looks like you've made quite a mess...”_   
  
_“I've gotten myself locked up again, yes. However I do not need your help. I can get out any time I want.”_   
  
_She doesn't need to be indebted to him anymore than she already is and he always wants more._   
  
_“But that would be showing your magic and you most certainly don't want to do that, now do you? And are you sure that...”_   
  
_His eyes are taking in her situation, glittering golden, twinkling in amusement. It seems like his whole body is sparkling and it makes her sick._   
  
_“You don't need any help in a different matter?”_   
  
_“No.”_   
  
_“Are you certain? Because you seem to be with child. It's delightful!”_   
  
_He claps his hands like she just delivered him an early birthday present and she scowls at him._   
  
_“What's it to you?”_   
  
_“Oh, that's not important. It's important what it is to you. And you, dearie, clearly do not want a child. Yet.”_   
  
_It's that last little word that makes her perk up, that gives her hope._   
  
_Of course he notices it and nods to himself. She grinds her teeth in response. Never show him anything. But instead of commenting on it, he claps his hands twice, suddenly holding a vial of green liquid. He sets in carefully on the nightstand._   
  
_“Drink this in careful sips tonight and tomorrow morning you will have lost your little... problem. It’s gonna be painful, though.”_   
  
_Regina's heart jumps, in relief and dread. She warily looks at Rumpelstiltskin._   
  
_“What do you get out of it?”_   
  
_He hesitates for a second before he giggles again._   
  
_“Let's just say I am doing this out of the goodness of my heart.”_   
  
_“You want me to believe that?”_   
  
_“Ah!”_   
  
_He holds up a hand, scolding her for interrupting his unfinished thought._   
  
_“I am also not terribly unhappy about the fact that there won't be a new heir to the crown any day soon.”_   
  
_It's disgusting and dark and, oh so wrong, on so many levels, but Regina takes the vial, dreading the outcome. Her entire outburst of rage had been directed to her circumstances._   
  
_She can't hide having a child to give it away. Not even Snow would overlook that._   
  
_And there is no way for her to raise this child. It's all she's been thinking about, raging about today. She just can’t bring a child into this world, knowing that she’d resent it, that she'd create another monster. A child deserves to be loved, to be cherished, to be…_   
  
_Hot tears are running down her face as she swallows the distasteful liquid, the vial trembling in her hands._   
  
_She is disgusted with herself, but when she sits up to sneer at Rumple, he is already gone._   
  
_So she is alone again, with nothing but remorse and anger warring inside of her. The tears are blurring her vision, so she closes her eyes while she carefully places a hand on her flat stomach._   
  
_“I’m sorry.”_

* * *

Emma is horrified. Tears of anger and compassion are brimming in her eyes. Residual threads of Regina's revulsion are warring with Emma's overwhelming horror. The revulsion Regina had felt towards Rumple, her revulsion towards herself. The all-encompassing desperation filling her, swallowing her whole.

It's too much for Emma.

“Emma?”  
  
This time she must have made an audible noise because Ruby is standing next to her, scrutinizing her.  
  
“Have you seen something?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Her answer is as immediate as it is instinctual. _There are some things..._  
  
Unfortunately, Ruby looks at her like she knows that she's lying, so Emma nods towards the books.  
  
“I believe that Regina has fused some of her memories in the books. It's not like a hidden message, but maybe I can get to them.”  
  
“Sure, but as pale as you are, you should maybe sleep a couple of hours before you try again.”  
  
Emma isn't sure whether Ruby believes her, but she nods anyway.  
  
“Okay, I'll sleep next to Henry. You might send everyone here to bed as well,” she jokes, looking at the rest of the sleeping people before she leaves.  
  
Although she knows well enough that Henry sleeps like the dead, she tiptoes to the bed and settles down carefully after taking off her jeans and shoes. Tomorrow they should ask Snow about a second set of clothes.  
  
For now she lets the exhaustion finally take over and quickly falls asleep.

* * *

Had Emma thought about it before, she would have known that she would dream.  
  
It's a mingling of memories and actual facts, questions without answers. For the first time she clearly sees Regina standing at the town line, smiling at her, giving her new memories, preparing her to take care of Henry.  
  
When this is all over, she might talk to Regina about equipping her with cooking skills sans the muscle memory.  
  
She sees herself, raising Henry.  
  
Then Regina is next to him, doing all the things she remembers doing.  
  
 _Does Henry look like his great-grandfather?_  
  
It's such an ugly question, one she shies away from almost immediately.  
  
Above everything, behind every thought, is a dark, threatening cloud, barging in, waiting to swallow her up, to reduce her to nothing.  
  
When it comes, it reduces her to anger and hatred, revulsion at herself, at magic.  
  
She is Regina and she is so angry.  
  
She is Emma and devastated.  
  
There is hurt and pain.  
  
One lashes out, gives herself up to the calming embrace of her rage.  
  
One shuts herself out, protects herself, never to be hurt again.

* * *

Emma wakes up only a couple of hours later, sweating. She barely remembers her dreams and feels even more tired than before going to sleep. When she walks to the window she sees why. It's barely dawn.  
  
She's exhausted. She'd like nothing more than go back to bed, snuggle against her son like she remembers doing so many times when he was little and shut out the world.  
  
But since that's not her memory and dreams only bring flashes of colliding lives, she slowly puts on her jeans and boots again.  
  
She's up now.  
  
And she has a diary to crack, a plan to understand, a Queen to find.  
  
So she turns around, pulls up the blankets around Henry and kisses him on the forehead. He looks so peaceful, it almost hurts.  
  
After lingering for a moment longer, she makes her way back to the council room.  
  
To her surprise, she isn't the only one already up. There are people dressed in nothing more than simple rugs and girls she identifies as maids running around, fulfilling the duties they came back to.  
  
Emma doesn't think she can ever get used to it.  
  
She desperately hopes she doesn't have to.  
  
If she understands the theories correctly, closing off the excess magic could bring them back to Storybrooke. Maybe she should make sure to bring everyone back, if there's a way.  
  
From her point of view, that little town offered a better life. There's is something to be said about democracy though, so if it comes to it, she'll put it up to a vote. Everyone who is in the castle should get a vote. Two weeks should be enough to pull that off.  
  
With a sigh Emma carefully pushes the door open and enters the room on light feet. Like she expected, everyone is still out cold. Only Ruby twitches when Emma pulls the blanket from last night over her shoulders and settles at the desk, happy that the little bit of daylight is enough to see. It's not like she actually needs to read anything, but it might be nice to know what point in Regina’s life she is exposing herself to.  
  
Most of the diaries start to glow like yesterday, different hues of violet, starting out light and getting darker, one is a dark purple.  
  
Emma pulls the silvery violet, the latest, one toward her and closes her eyes.  
  
Nothing happens.  
  
She still feels that there is something, just out of her grasp.  
  
Over the years, Regina must have perfected her technique for hiding her memories.  
  
Frustrated, Emma tries again.  
  
And again.  
  
It doesn't work.  
  
To top it off, it feels like repeatedly throwing oneself against a closed door, which means that she's starting to wonder about the mental equivalent of bruises.  
  
It takes all she has not to groan out of frustration.  
  
She has seen early memories, embedded in a way that might have been unintentional, from lighter diaries.  
  
Swallowing, she takes up a darker book. Maybe she needs to crack this first to disentangle the intricate magic of the latest one.  
  
The book shakes in her trembling hands, but she is determined.  
  
This time she feels the lock she has to unclasp.  
  
So she does.

For a moment she wonders if she did it correctly, because the words in her mind sound like swirling magical theories but they are spoken in Regina's voice and Emma surmises that she needs to enter the memory voluntarily.  
  
Only, it isn't a memory at all. It's a collection of facts, void of emotions.  
  
It's muddled and indistinct and strange and it takes Emma a long moment to make sense of it.  
  
When she does, she lets go of the book immediately.  
  
It's about resurrection and being reborn and forcing souls out of the ether.  
  
It's so very wrong that there aren't even any emotions behind the entries. There's only a cold desperation seeping through resolve, eating up every other feeling.  
  
After taking a deep breath, Emma checks the dates of the diary. It covers about two years, the pages filled with growing desperation, slowly but surely erasing the slight tingle of hope Emma had felt earlier.  
  
Nothing feels like a memory though, only notes and plans hidden by the trivia of dinner plans for a kingdom.  
  
While flipping through the pages, Emma concentrates more and more, trying to find a memory, only to fall head-on into the only one the book holds when she reaches the last page, the forefinger of her left hand is still on the first page, connecting her with both.

* * *

_It's dark outside. Hope is nearly tearing her apart as she looks upon a badly lit tent, illuminated every once in a while by lightning followed by loud thunderbolts. The air is charged with something strange, something new, a possibility, an ending._   
  
_The lightning stops, the doctor comes back from his tent. She ignores his trudging steps and looks up at him, hopeful, but he is shaking his head. Sparing him no further thought, she runs into the tent and throws herself upon the lifeless form of her fiancé. This is the last straw. It is finally too much._   
  
_The possibility of getting Daniel back kept her going, kept her enduring this farce of a marriage, helped her to play the role her mother has condemned her to._   
  
_Rumpelstiltskin said it couldn't be done._   
  
_This doctor from another realm failed as well._   
  
_They crushed her hope and left her to weep._   
  
_A shudder goes through Regina as she takes a deep breath._   
  
_If you want something done, do it yourself._   
  
_She has neither the power nor the knowledge to do what needs to be done._   
  
_There is only one way to get out of this wrecked situation._   
  
_She can't leave the castle without risking prosecution. Traveling with Daniel in stasis is not an option. So she'll get the knowledge, gain the power she needs, do what no one else can._   
  
_Magic has a price._   
  
_She can see it now._   
  
_And she accepts it._   
  
_It will all be okay once she gets him back._

* * *

Without pause the memory changes into another one in a swirl of short-lived darkness.

* * *

_“Magic can't achieve everything, Regina. You know that,” a confident voice drawls in the darkness of a candle-lit throne room_   
  
_Regina chuckles darkly._   
  
_“Just because you limit yourself to the rules we've been taught, it doesn't mean there aren't different rules in other realms.”_   
  
_“Of course there are. But Regina, no matter where you're traveling with Jefferson, no matter how much you're trying to change the rules of nature, simple science tells you all that you need to know. He died here, his body was subjected to the laws of our nature. Even if there is a way to resurrect people in different realms, you will never succeed with him because you're missing the most important ingredient.”_   
  
_“I have dozens of hearts, Maleficent. I can try again and again and again. I will succeed. Mostly because I don't have to succumb to your distorted version of morality.”_   
  
_Regina turns around to leave, not the least bit impressed by Maleficent's ramblings. They had become friends because Regina had enjoyed talking to someone unprejudiced about magical procedures. Apparently she had been mistaken._   
  
_But Maleficent doesn't stop talking, she actually raises her voice._   
  
_“His soul, Regina. He is missing his soul. You didn't think to capture it back then and now it is gone, has already moved on. You might find a way to revive his body, but it won't be him. Stop shutting yourself off from the reality of that!”_   
  
_The words are spoken intently, beseechingly, even compassionate._   
  
_While the sympathy makes her sick, the fact that Maleficent speaks up to makes her listen works, she is considering the meaning of the words._   
  
_Anger flames up from deep within her, magic swirling just beneath the surface, begging to be set free, to be released. Regina faces Maleficent with a look that could freeze armies._   
  
_“I told you never to talk about him again!” she sneers, fully knowing that she has only ever forbidden the mention of his name. She releases her magic in an unfocused fire ball, disappearing in a dark violet cloud._   
  
_She's pacing before she's completely materialized. Maleficent has a point. She has seen ways to transfer someone's essence into another body, completely taking their awareness. It's what Maleficent calls a soul._   
  
_If there is no way to get his soul back then she has lost, her happiness would be gone. Forever. Everything would have been for nothing._   
  
_But that won't do, she has to reclaim it, reclaim her happiness, her life._   
  
_She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself, to get a hold on the conflicting emotions inside of her. So she concentrates on the one person that is responsible for her misery._   
  
_Her lips move into a cruel smile while she descends into chaos, breaking free of the magical rulebook imposed by Rumple._

_Instead she starts planning_ his _demise, envisioning Snow's heartbroken reaction._  
  
 _With the flick of a hand Regina changes from the black dress she's worn to visit Maleficent into an innocent combination of white._  
  
 _She decides to find Snow first, while Leopold is on his morning walk, and she gets the young woman to talk about her father with all the love she feels._  
  
 _It's going to be glorious._  
  
 _There is a small part of Regina that is screaming at her, but she ignores it, willingly allowing the magic to run freely through her veins, shaping her will from anger and loss and vengeance._  
  
 _She busies herself with her apple tree, allows herself a satisfied smile while listening to Snow. Soon this... this happiness will be over._  
  
 _Lost in her own observations, Regina barely hears Leopold approaching._  
  
 _“This is my beautiful daughter, Snow.”_  
  
 _“How do you do?”_  
  
 _Regina turns around to see an unfamiliar man standing next to the King._  
  
 _“And Regina, my wife. The Queen.”_  
  
 _She smiles at the man, taking in his apparent admiration of her._  
  
 _“Hello.”_  
  
 _And somehow she feels like she has just been presented with the perfect opportunity. She revels in the deep satisfaction that washes through her._

* * *

This time Emma pushes the book so hard away from her that it lands on the floor with a harsh thud. She stares at it, trying to get her emotions under control, struggling to find a way.  
  
She has seen Regina's ability to love with all her heart, has seen her look at Henry, has witnessed her giving Henry over to her, has started to suspect that most of her happy memories with Henry are Regina's very own moments with him.  
  
She has an inkling of the love Regina felt for Daniel, the same capability to love with all her heart, despite it being doomed in the world they lived in, despite her growing up with Cora.  
  
She has just gotten uncomfortably close to the Evil Queen, that part of Regina she always refuses to see. What’s worse is that she probably just witnessed the beginning, one of the beginnings, two of them to be exact. Breaking points, moments that pushed Regina.  
  
It's exceeding her emotional capacity to have Regina's emotions pressed upon her. The extent of Regina's devastation, the way she constantly exceeds her breaking point when her emotions threaten to overwhelm her.  
  
It was then that the magic had taken over, that she had lost herself in the power of magic, planned to lash out instead of crumbling down.  
  
There is no way to know how Regina would have reacted to the hardships of her life without magic.  
  
Emma is torn between horror, empathy, and curiosity. Clearly Regina never felt like she had a choice.  
  
Yes, she has seen the moment Regina made the decision to learn magic, the determination to find a way to 'save' Daniel, but when had that turned into the version she had just seen?  
  
The Regina who plots against her husband’s life, happy for the misery she'd be inflicting on Snow, is not the same woman who is horrified by the impulse to lay hands on a child.  
  
And she is definitely not the woman who breaks her own curse to save the very people she cursed to begin with.  
  
“Emma?”  
  
Emma flinches, before she turns around to see a sleepy Ruby staring at her.  
  
“Found something?”  
  
There is no way she can talk about this. At least not yet. _Besides, what good would Regina's memories do right now?_  
  
So she shrugs and holds her hand up, sheepishly grinning.  
  
“Got burned. I guess she didn't like me prying.”  
  
As expected Ruby chuckles and shakes her head.  
  
“I wouldn't think so.”  
  
She gets up and stretches.  
  
“I'm gonna get breakfast. Want something?”  
  
A potion to lose one's memory? Forget she ever took a peek into Regina's psyche? But no, she has enough of changed memories for now.  
  
“I guess you don't have coffee?”  
  
“Nope, sorry. Black tea?”  
  
“Hot chocolate?”  
  
Ruby rolls her eyes but nods in confirmation.  
  
“Child.”  
  
“I wish.”  
  
A child wouldn’t have to deal with all of this. A child wouldn’t have to do her best to accept the responsibilities that come with her real identity.  
  
She shakes her head at herself.  
  
 _Good thing you got your memories back, now go and save the world. Find Regina to help you do it. Sift through her memories to figure out where she's hiding. Try not to go crazy while doing it. No biggie, really._  
  
Emma knows that her reactions aren’t particularly normal. Although she has grown to a tentative friendship with Regina, she still has to hate her past. That’s what the iconic figure of the Evil Queen is there for, to hate. Not to sympathize with.  
  
There still might be a case about her potential insanity, she thinks, wanting nothing more than a good cup of strong coffee.  
  
Thing is, you don't always get what you want.


	5. Chapter 5

When everyone’s awake, Blue and most of the royalty show up in the council room for a situation report. It baffles Emma how many people are actually there. She had been at city council meetings and it follows that most of the council members were kings or lords … but there’s the guy that worked at the fish market in a white suit, holding himself like every other royal in the room, the florist, the gym teacher, who turned out to be Katherine’s real husband, or Abigail’s.  
  
It doesn’t become less complicated by the fact that they look at Emma like she’s about to sprout wings and proclaim some magical solution.  
  
Fortunately this tension starts to fade when Katherine directs a wide smile at her and addresses her like a human being. She even refrains from formally introducing Frederick, joking that they met at soccer practice.  
  
It’s true. And it receives some appreciative snickers, effectively breaking the ice. Now others start greeting her as well, remembering her as their Sheriff, not their Savior.  
  
Afterward Katherine turns to Blue with a kind smile and asks how the plan is coming along.  
  
For a moment Emma is confused, because no one has talked about something concrete yet, but as soon as Blue starts talking about finding enough pixie and fairy dust to create a protective barrier around the castle, Emma knows that it's bogus, just a way to soothe the masses.  
  
Still, at least half the people in the room seem to buy the story, judging by how they nod along almost happily, at least when they're not suspiciously eying Emma. Her own conclusions are proven right when she meets Tink's eyes and the fairy rolls her eyes. Despite their rocky start, Emma always liked Tink and she can’t help but smile at Tink’s sarcastic facial expressions, live-commenting on Blue’s speech.  
  
Still, the soothing method works. The buzz in the room abates and most of them seem decidedly calmer, placated by the would-be-safety plan.

* * *

 The rest of the day passes in conversations between Snow and Blue, discussing magical theories. They seem pretty sure that they can teach Emma how to open a portal that will bring a certain amount of people to safety, but they have no idea what it might do to the realm they're in and they don't want to lose time by trying something that will, at best, only save a few.  
  
Emma tends to agree, especially since Blue’s directions sound completely bogus to her. The chance that she might actually achieve something from that is pretty slim and she won't start practicing for a week.  
  
Snow agrees that a week is enough time to locate Regina and find a way to get them all to safety. _In seven days it's gonna be about damage control, not averting a catastrophe._ She ignores the fact that all the fairies are already working on damage control, collecting dust, trying to get enough together to build a shield. A shield that will work on hope and belief, not spending dust on let's say, a previous try. Emma hasn't dared to mention that the only world that works like that is not the Enchanted Forest. She has, however, seen Tink roll her eyes at Blue's words. Their eyes had met in silent agreement.  
  
Judging by the fact that even a fairy agrees with Emma’s assessment of the situation, it seems like a good thing, that Snow agrees to support Emma's plan, which is completely based on finding Regina.  
  
Overall, everything depends on the accuracy of the magic's arrival date.

_Which is, as it turns out, nothing more than a hopefully lucky guess by Blue._

Added to this, the latest diary simply refuses to open under her ministration throughout the entire day.

The only good thing out of this so far is that Henry's having the greatest fun of his life. There are always at least two guards or Ruby or Granny with him, but he doesn't mind it in the slightest. He's convinced that Emma will find Regina and that everything is going to be fine.  
  
Emma can't decide whether they've described the reality too softly or if his optimism really is that all-encompassing.  
  
She really doesn't want to contemplate his declaration of having faith in her too much.  
  
Because she can't let him down, she takes the latest diary from the room and wanders through the corridors, looking for some space to think, preferably alone.  
  
Snow's hopeful, expecting glances are becoming a little bit too much. The whispers of the maids and servants, relaying hope that she’ll bring everyone back to Storybrooke are even worse.  
  
Fortunately she finds some peace and quiet in a huge room that looks like an old library. Some shelves are still destroyed, proof that it hadn't been high up on the restoring list, but there is one cozy armchair in the corner. Glad that she took a blanket with her, Emma huddles into it, strips off her shoes and sits cross-legged to hold the diary with her elbows resting on her legs.  
  
Regina has taught her about concentration and control, to guide her emotions instead of letting them guide her.  
  
It's all too obvious now that she was trying to keep Emma from the same thing that she has experienced, letting herself be taken over by magic.  
  
If Emma has understood anything from the memories, it's that Regina lived by letting the magic guide her in crucial moments.  
  
So Emma takes a deep breath and allows the prickling under her fingertips to guide her instead of trying to order it around.  
  
Almost the next second she is blasted across the room, landing painfully on her behind. She gasps, gets up quickly, while hoping that no one heard her surprised shriek, and looks for the offending book.  
  
It’s lying innocently next to the armchair, not showing any sign of its magic.  
  
Emma feels very stupid when she carefully approaches the book again. She can almost hear Regina calling her an idiot.  
  
The Regina who was working with her mother in Storybrooke might have allowed her magic to take over once more, but the Regina who fought next to Emma in Neverland had taken control over her magic.  
  
After Regina had sent Henry and her away she wouldn't regress that much. She had grown too much for that, Emma is sure of it.  
  
Smiling victoriously she takes the book up, tastes the magic surrounding it, tests it for its defense and finds the entrance just like in the last book. She can almost feel herself touching the memories as she works through a series of opening gestures Regina has taught her.  
  
This time, it complies.  
  
The vast array of information almost makes her drop the diary, but she holds on tightly, feeling every kind of emotion reach for her, Henry, Daniel mingling together.  
  
Regina had poured her memories into the diary, knowing that this would be her last, protecting it against anyone with the ability to enter.  
  
Emma feels like an intruder as the memories line up in front of her, but she grits her teeth and concentrates on the last one.

* * *

_She meets Snow standing at the topmost tower, looking out into the distance, her face devoid of any emotion._   
  
_"Tell me you found something."_   
  
_Snow doesn't even expect a positive answer and it's that lack of optimism that makes Regina talk._   
  
_"I found out that my suspicions are right. It is dark magic, a remembrance of the curse, excess energy seeking vengeance for breaking the laws of nature in a place without magic. It's swallowing up our realm."_   
  
_"We know that already."_   
  
_"The curse is made out of the darkest magic there is, the most evil, most vile energy in existence."_   
  
_"Regina..."_   
  
_Her name sounds like a warning and it's ironic that the woman whose happiness the curse was supposed to take reprimands Regina for speaking with a well deserved self-loathing. Not as ironic as their solution though._   
  
_"For it to be stopped, for the leak to be closed, it demands the purest of white magic, the goodness that originates from True Love."_   
  
_"We have," Snow starts, but Regina holds up a hand._   
  
_"A True Love's child with the whitest of magic, capable of wielding it not just as blunt force, but a weapon, a sword, guided by the positive emotions that are needed, by love, the urge to protect others, even fear, if it's not for themselves but others.”_   
  
_Snow rolls her eyes._   
  
_“You're talking about the myth of the whitest of magic. Of a person guided only by the love and compassion for others, capable of giving themselves up for a total stranger, of being so good that they understand even the blackest of souls. Just like there is no soul completely black, there is no soul completely white, capable of ridding the darkness from the darkest of souls. It's a myth, Regina.”_   
  
_“No, it's not.”_   
  
_“What do you mean?”_   
  
_“The myth doesn't talk about the blackest of soul, it talks about the blackest of magic, taking hearts, releasing a curse by patricide. Why do you think Emma was able to break my curse with a simple kiss to Henry's forehead? She loves him, there is no doubt about that, but we both know that for the concept of True Love's kiss to work, it has to be a romantic love. There is the fact that an Act of True Love works basically the same, but Emma didn't offer up herself for Henry, she simply kissed him.”_   
  
_Snow slowly turns to Regina._   
  
_“Are you saying...?”_   
  
_“Your daughter has, however clumsily, woven magic that has taken me years to gain. She helped me with the trigger in a way that should have been impossible. Her magic in Neverland proved it again. Emma doesn't know what she is doing, but as Rumple so nicely instructed her to, she concentrates on her emotions and it simply works. Although she has no idea what she is doing, the barest instruction is enough. Each time it was either her fear for Henry or others that made her magic work.”_   
  
_“Is there some way to know for sure?”_   
  
_Regina shrugs, feigning nonchalance. It's not that it matters now anyway._   
  
_“Well, we could try to take her heart. It should be impossible.”_   
  
_“Doesn't that apply to all true love's children?”_   
  
_“No, only those with white magic. It protects them from harm, even when they're not doing anything themselves.”_   
  
_“Your mother tried to take Emma's heart, back when we met her here. Actually she was going to take mine. Emma threw herself in the way and Cora had her hand in her chest. But instead of taking her heart she was blown back by a white force.”_   
  
_Regina feels her hands tremble and knits her fingers together._   
  
_“Why has no one ever told me of this?”_   
  
_“It wasn't important. We thought it was simply because she is a true love's child and..”_   
  
_“You didn't want to know what it would mean if your daughter had magic.”_   
  
_“No,” Snow sighs. “I did not.”_   
  
_Regina hums in agreement. She hears Snow take a deep breath and she gives her time to see the irony._   
  
_But of course it is Snow standing next to her and even though her sunny disposition had suffered from the loss of a daughter and a grandchild, she is still her aggravating optimistic self._   
  
_"How do we get her here?"_   
  
_She releases a sharp barking laughter._   
  
_"We don't. That's the irony of this whole thing. The only one who could theoretically put an end to this is on the wrong side of the storm, unable to even remember us."_   
  
_"Can't we send her a message, do something?"_   
  
_"Even if we could, there is no way to cross into our realm anymore, just like we probably couldn't get out, even if we had your whole field of beans at our disposal."_   
  
_"Probably? In theory could Emma make her way to us?"_   
  
_"In theory? Yes, I suppose so. But you're forgetting that she doesn't remember us, Snow. Moreover, she is happy. She has no reason to go on a wild goose chase that leads her to our land."_   
  
_"She is my daughter."_   
  
_"She doesn't know that."_   
  
_"Don't you have hope? There's a chance."_   
  
_"There is also a chance that the magic will disappear into thin air, but I'm not setting my money on that either."_   
  
_There is a deep set desperation in Regina, preventing her from hoping. She heaves a heavy sigh and turns around. Before she leaves, she lets her hand rest shortly on Snow's shoulder, conveying all the things that can't be said. She loves her family and somehow, weird as it is, Snow is part of it again, the only part of it that’s with her, now that it's over. There is so much to be said, but nothing left._   
  
_The only one who really matters doesn't remember her goodbye._

* * *

Emma fights against losing the memory, because it can't be over, it can't be the last. It doesn't tell her where Regina is. It says nothing about her plan to disappear.  
  
Her hands are trembling from the effort, but she doesn’t stop searching for a picture, an emotion, anything.  
  
She passes out with a picture of a wide field, a barn in front of a huge mansion and the feeling of being loved invading her mind.

* * *

“Emma?”  
  
Slowly Emma comes to her senses, shaken awake by…  
  
“Ruby?”  
  
“Yeah. What the hell were you doing here?”  
  
“Finding Regina?”  
  
“In an old library? It stinks of magic in here, what have you been doing?”  
  
“Cracked the diary,” Emma answers with a big grin on her face while Ruby helps her up.  
  
“I know where she is.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“I don’t know really, I need to talk to Snow. She might recognize the place I saw.”  
  
Ruby lifts her eyebrows in mockery.  
  
“Do you suddenly know how to paint?”  
  
Deciding not to answer, Emma eyes Ruby suspiciously.  
  
“How did you even find me?”  
  
“I followed your scent. You stink.”  
  
Laughing it off, Emma nudges Ruby with her hip.  
  
“Aw, do you know how to track?"  
  
“Shut up!”  
  
“You know, I always wanted a pet.”  
  
“You know, Regina was right. You are insufferable.”  
  
“I am hurt!”  
  
“No, you’re not, you are giddy.”  
  
Ruby gives her a sideways glance, scrutinizing her.  
  
“Are you high on magic?”  
  
Emma shakes her head, but keeps on grinning. _This is too much. Everything about this is too much. It’s ridiculous, really._ So the answer tumbles out of her mouth before she can stop herself.  
  
“Nope, turns out that’s impossible. I am magic.”  
  
“Say what?”  
  
Emma shakes her head again. She doesn’t want to think about it. Priority one is getting to Regina. Then she’ll have to think about what she has to do.  
  
 _Not now._  
  
Maybe she puts a lot of things to the back of her mind, but that’s just how it is. Panicking can come later, preferably when she's alone and everyone’s safe.  
  
She is no Savior, she just isn’t.  
  
Busy with suppressing her thoughts, Emma doesn't even realize that Ruby has lead them to the kitchen, but she’s grateful for Ruby’s silence. Snow is handing out orders to somehow feed the hundreds of people that are camping in the castle. Fortunately the fairies managed to open a couple of wells, giving them at least enough clean water.  
  
Ruby catches Snow’s attention first. She nods at Emma, who smiles awkwardly, unsettled by the looks she receives from the surrounding people.  
  
They still regard her with barely hidden awe and expect her to save not only their land, but their lives.  
  
“Emma, what is it?”  
  
“I know where Regina is.”  
  
Snow gives her a radiant smile, not doubting her for a second.  
  
“Where?”  
  
Instead of losing herself in long descriptions, Emma takes her mother’s hand and squeezes once. She closes her eyes, conjures up the picture of the stable in front of a huge estate, transferring it to Snow’s mind, barely able to retain the echo of Regina’s emotions.  
  
Only when Snow gasps, Emma remembers that she should have warned her. Sharing memories had become natural to her. In Neverland Regina had shown her some of Henry growing up, it had kept them going. Emma had used the opportunity to prove that Henry cared about Regina , that he loved her, shown her his worry about Regina after the curse had been broken, how he had cried out for her when he had been sick. Emma had known that she hadn’t imagined the tears in Regina’s eyes, but the next day Regina had pretended like nothing had happened and Emma had let her. It had been easier.  
  
“Emma?”  
  
Remembering her surroundings Emma blinked.  
  
“Sorry, I threw that on you. Did you recognize it?”  
  
“Yes. The estate belonged to Regina’s parents. It was hers afterward. Sometimes she went there for a week or so when my father was home. I was never allowed to go back there.”  
  
Snow sounds wistful and it takes Emma a huge effort not to flinch. She wonders how blind Snow had been as a child, because she has no doubt that Snow completely missed Regina’s descent.  
  
 _Or maybe she overlooked it._  
  
Strangely Snow seems to guess her train of thought.  
  
“There were a lot of signs, but I was a child, happy to have a mother. I didn’t want to see anything. That came later.”  
  
“She didn’t hate you from the start,” Emma hears herself saying, and, fortunately instead of being surprised and questioning Emma’s knowledge, Snow simply nods.  
  
“I know. She even cared for me. But when someone needed to be blamed, it was easier to take me than Cora.”  
  
 _Probably true._  
  
“How do you know?”  
  
“Regina and I talked a lot lately.”  
  
Emma nods carefully, deciding not to dwell too much on that right now. It makes her happy to see that they’ve finally put down their hate, but there are more important things going on.  
  
“How far is it?”  
  
“Not too much, five days by horse at most. It’s situated very closely to the border, the land is still untouched by the magic. Are you sure she’s there?”  
  
“Pretty sure.”  
  
Regina went to die at a place she has happy memories of.  
  
“Can I show you something more?”  
  
Snow nods and this time she expects the picture in her mind.  
  
“Is that Regina’s father?”  
  
“Yes, she probably has happy memories of him there.”  
  
And of Daniel, is another thing they both think but refuse to say.  
  
“Shall I accompany Emma there?” Ruby asks carefully.  
  
Snow nods slowly in agreement, before she shakes her head.  
  
“I’m coming with you. I’m the only one who knows the land.”  
  
Ruby smiles immediately, but Emma hesitates.  
  
“What about Henry? And David?"  
  
“David has to stay here, someone needs to organize everything here. Henry can stay with him.”  
  
It is an okay-ish idea, but somehow Emma doesn’t feel like parting with him, especially not now, not here.  
  
Snow gives her an understanding look.  
  
"He can come with us, seeing that he can probably ride better than you."  
  
Emma makes a face at her, but she has no doubt that Snow noticed her relief.

* * *

It takes surprisingly little time to provide horses, provisions, and to say goodbye to David. Emma finds her knife, just where she left it, next to Regina's diaries. For a moment she just stares at them. It feels weird to leave them out in the open like that. Though she knows that it's unlikely that anyone can read them, it feels like leaving Regina vulnerable and she doesn't like it. On a whim she transfers all the memories to the latest diary, keeping them in the order they were created.  
  
When she arrives at the courtyard she is surprised at the absence of a carriage. Four horses are obviously prepared for departure, carrying heavy bags at their saddles. Saddles that are prepared for riders.  
  
Looking for help she meets Ruby's eyes.  
  
"No carriage?"  
  
Ruby doesn't even seem remotely sorry.  
  
"No, we’re riding, Princess. But don't worry, those four are trained to stay together. And tonight you'll be sorry that you haven't changed into the trousers I laid out for you."  
  
"I'm not into leather pants."  
  
She doesn't mention that she didn't have the time. She was packing diaries when she was supposed to change.  
  
Henry nods along with Ruby, but he hugs her tight, eyes blazing with joy.  
  
"I knew you'd do it."  
  
He is dressed in perfect little riding clothes and looks just adorable, especially next to an equally dressed Snow. His face is full of hope and for a moment Emma wonders whether it would be safer to leave him behind, instead of riding toward the magic. But then, he couldn’t be any safer than in Regina’s presence. And they’re traveling toward Regina, not the cloud of magic.  
  
Riding turns out to be surprisingly easy. All Emma seems to have to do is to keep herself on the horse. It just follows Snow’s horse.  
  
Ruby was right, though. They have to make a stop so that Emma can change her trousers about an hour in, her jeans too uncomfortable as her saddle chafes at her skin.  
  
The rest of day drifts by in a haze of Henry’s chatter, Snow pointing out some things along the way and Ruby correcting her. It’s as amazing as it is funny, but after a couple of hours it gets tired.  
  
Just like her limbs.  
  
Scratch that.  
  
Like all of her muscles.  
  
She never knew there were so many muscles in her legs, but they are all hurting.  
  
And her back, her arms. Her shoulders.  
  
She feels like an old woman.  
  
Which is kind of embarrassing when Snow gives her a knowing look, Henry stretches once and seems okay afterward and Ruby, well it doesn’t seem like her superhuman strength is anywhere near impaired.  
  
Ruby even dares to clap her on the shoulder.  
  
"It's okay, I know it can be tough when you're not used to it."  
  
It's a bit of an understatement, but Emma lets it go and turns to help Henry with his things. She pretends not to notice Snow's surprise and she refuses to acknowledge that Snow automatically moved to take care of him. She cringes at the thought that she used to allow Snow to mother him, because she had no clue how to do it herself. Even though she tried her best, it hadn’t been good for Henry. But she’s here for him now and she’ll just have to continue making up for it.  
  
The hopeful way he smiles up at her tells her that she's on the right track.

They form a makeshift tent, have something to eat and Henry's out.  
  
"Busy day for him, hm?"  
  
Emma simply nods at Snow.  
  
"I'm just happy that at least part of him still sees this as some kind of great adventure. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't have to deal with all of this."  
  
"You're right."  
  
Snow's agreement rings too close to home. She looks at Emma a bit too intently, about ready to start an emotional conversation about having Emma back, so she gives her mother a tight-lipped smile and concentrates on unfolding their blankets.  
  
It doesn't take long for everyone to be asleep. Despite saying otherwise, they're all exhausted.  
  
Unfortunately, Emma feels both physically and mentally exhausted. It means that she moves her sleep roll a bit away from the others and watches the sky.  
  
She is a city girl, but she is also a girl who never had many friends, let alone family, so she has read her fair share of books. Even though she usually preferred it to roughhouse with other kids, she gratefully took the opportunity to lose herself in a book when she was ‘at home’.  
  
She realizes she's been staring at the stars for a while when she notices that a particularly weird constellation has moved from the top of the tree line toward the middle of the sky. She doesn’t quite recognize any constellations and even though she never gazed at the stars at home, she had started to suspect that the stars are different here during her last visit, and she kinda has to agree with herself right now.  
  
Looking over to Henry she is relieved that he is fast asleep.  
  
Now she does remember the times he would wake up several times in the night, plagued by nightmares, afraid for Regina, afraid of his love for her when they thought she had killed Archie.  
  
However difficult it might turn out for them to have two sets of conflicting memories, Emma knows without a doubt that it has made him happier, mellower, even more optimistic, his ability to truly believe not as rattled as before. Henry now allows himself to believe in his mom without a doubt.  
  
Both his moms.  
  
Both are proof to what an amazing child he truly is, what an amazing child Regina raised.  
  
Because there are yet new stars at the tree line, Emma heaves a soft sigh and gives in to the urge she feels. It doesn’t feel as bad a violation as the things she already did because a lot of her own new memories originally belonged to Regina. She retrieves the diary and opens it on the last pages, where she knows that Regina captured her life with Henry.  
  
Emma goes right to the start, finding memories of the squalling baby that she hadn’t even laid eyes upon after she had birthed him. She remembers staring at the ultrasound picture for hours, and she remembers both, holding her little wonder in her arms and sending him away.  
  
She needs to know.  
  
Regina with her son is amazing. She has retained every stupid memory and Emma couldn’t be happier for it. There is her little baby throwing up on the Mayor’s most expensive suit, teaching her to cover them both in burp clothes.  
  
Just like Emma herself, Regina is overly anxious about her little crybaby. Emma doesn’t remember bringing him to a doctor, but in her set of memories she had regular meetings with her social worker, who repeatedly reassured her that Henry’s behavior was completely normal. For a moment she wonders how much of her own memories are herself and how much has been ingrained into her by Regina.  
  
Then she watches Snow holding Henry, who suddenly stops crying. It’s curious that Regina is mostly relieved. The stab Emma expects is pretty much non-existent. There is, however, a growing curiosity.  
  
Emma knows by now that babies react to the situation. If you’re anxious, they scream. Mary Margaret is completely oblivious to anything, so Henry giggles with her smiling down at him.  
  
Slowly Emma watches Regina’s horror forming, a dark suspicion, and it can’t be. _There is no way Regina_ knew _while raising Henry with all of her love._  
  
When her own medical records come in, Emma is lost to the memory, watching in horror as the realization sets in. Incapable of believing what she is seeing, Emma holds on to the memories, witnesses Regina attempt to bring Henry back, feels Regina’s heart swelling at Henry’s smile, watches her keeping him, erasing her own memory, trying to be a good mom, for as long as she is allowed to be.  
  
Emma’s heart breaks along with Regina’s.  
  
Only after Regina's little tale does Emma realize that she hadn't delved into the memory, that she hadn't recognized any emotion from her son's mom other than the love she felt for Henry.  
  
Her tired mind doesn't put much thought into it, instead delving into the next memories, a vast array of Henry's childhood.  
  
She finally falls asleep with a happy smile on her face.

* * *

The next day brings much of the same, plus a growing anxiousness about the time. Emma feels like she can’t breathe with the threat of the magic looming over their heads. And this night she reads without magical help (other than a small light). She learns about magic and theories and tries to understand as much as she can. It's slowly forming a picture she doesn't particularly enjoy.

 

The third day of riding is full of rain and clamminess, so much that even good natured Snow is staying silent. They are all bone-tired by now and Emma wants nothing more than to finally be done with it, almost as much as she wishes to wake up in their beautiful apartment in New York and have all of this be a very weird dream. Maybe the general grumpiness is what makes her open the diary at the front pages, maybe it's her stupid curiosity or maybe she has simply lost any regard for privacy.

* * *

_Regina is standing in the stables, looking up at a huge horse in the stall next to them._   
  
_"Is he really supposed to be mine?"_   
  
_"Of course, Regina. Everyone needs a proper steed," her father answers and she can hear the smile in his voice._   
  
_"Thank you, Daddy!"_   
  
_She buries her head into his side, not quite sure what she's supposed to do with all the good feelings within her._   
  
_"Do you want to get to know your new friend?"_   
  
_She nods vigorously before he has even finished his sentence and he chuckles that deep, calming sound that makes everything right in the world. When she gets closer to the stall, a huge head appears, coming curiously into her direction. The horse neighs softly and Regina hears herself laugh. She steps close to him and brushes his forehead without being frightened. He moves his head against her in greeting, rubbing it against her chest. If he wasn’t behind the stall, he’d surely make her lose her balance._   
  
_“Hey, stay calm. All is good, we’re getting you out now. Aren’t we Daddy?”_   
  
_“Yes, we are, Regina.”_   
  
_Her father has a headcollar in his hands, but Regina takes it and puts it smoothly on the horse's head. He welcomes her again and willingly follows her when she leads him out. She fastens the rope outside. He nudges her again with his head. In the brighter hallway she notices the precise shape of his markings, the whiteness of his forehead, on his ankles._   
  
_“Daddy, did you…?”_   
  
_She clears her throat nervously, recognizing the warm eyes._   
  
_“Where did you buy this horse?”_   
  
_“But Regina, our stable boy went to get your horse. That wasn’t my job.”_   
  
_The admission is clear in the innocence of his words._   
  
_Very slowly Regina gets closer to her horse, mumbling softly under her breath, until she’s right next to him, almost able to just lean into him. He shifts his weight and leans his side on her, giving her the signal she waited for. She hides her face in his mane for a moment, feeling her heart soar._   
  
_“Welcome home, little boy.”_   
  
_Only then she turns back to her father._   
  
_“You’ve brought him back, Rocinante. Mother will not like this.”_   
  
_“Your mother doesn’t even remember the name of the foal you took care of, until she send it away three summers ago. He just went on a long holiday and now he is trained to be ridden. If you want to try?”_   
  
_“Of course!”_   
  
_They take their time, brushing the horse thoroughly, cleaning his hooves, until her father presents her a brand new saddle._   
  
_“Your mother says I coddle you, but at least she agrees that a lady must know how to ride.”_   
  
_Regina rolls her eyes and laughs. She is too happy to worry about mother right now._   
  
_When they get into the paddock, Rocinante proves that he is either perfectly trained or completely trusting her._   
  
_Breaking into a gallop with him makes her feel free. She forgets that her back is hurting in the riding jacket, that the healer told her not to use her arm this week, that her fingertips are scraped from trying to escape, because none of that matters right now. All that matters is finding freedom with her childhood companion._   
  
_A couple of weeks later they’re soaring through the fields like nothing can ever stop them, it’s the epitome of freedom._

* * *

Emma comes out of the memory, crying. She isn’t even aware of her tears until one drops to her hand. Curiously she lifts her hand to her cheek and stops in her tracks, swallowing once, twice, to take a deep breath.  
  
She felt everything that Regina felt, especially the fact that she shouldn’t even be outside, but in a hospital bed.  
  
Emma had seen her fair share of abuse, some of it directed to her, some to foster siblings, some even coming from foster siblings.  
  
She had never seen a child as badly beaten as Regina.  
  
 _And the worst part?_  
  
Apart from the fact that Cora had somehow used magic to make most of the scrapes and bruises invisible but none to take the hurt away?  
  
Regina seemed fine with it, like it was almost a routine situation.  
  
 _It wasn’t._  
  
At least not judging by how much her father cared for her that day.  
  
But it happened often enough.  
  
The fact that the other parent went out to buy ice cream in an attempt to make everything okay, wasn’t new to Emma either.  
  
Though the horse was a different category, the level to which Regina’s father seemed to love her was like a kick to the gut.  
  
His whole life seemed about loving her, but he didn’t dare doing anything about Cora.  
  
Slowly Emma begins to wonder how Regina was able to stay that long. _She should have run away long before Daniel._ Or just after meeting him.  
  
As if reading her thoughts the diary’s pages turn on their own, inviting Emma to the next memory. Cheeks still wet she reaches out, agreeing.

* * *

_She’s flying on a path to the forest, ducked closely to Rocinante, allowing him to gallop wildly, desperation running through her, one goal in her mind. She needs to leave, she needs to reach the land’s border._   
  
_Regina’s lifting up from the saddle shortly to give Rocinante room to jump over fallen trees, a small stream. They’re charging ahead as fast as they can. She has all but given control over to him, trusting him to take them safely to their destination, just like she always has._   
  
_From one moment to the next she is grasped by vines from the surrounding trees, lifted into the air as Rocinante charges on._   
  
_“And I thought we were done with all this nonsense.”_   
  
_She freezes up, all for naught._   
  
_“Hello mother.”_

* * *

Emma flinches away from the book. She knows how that story ends. Regina marries Leopold. But just for good measure the book pulls her in again, she works against it, holding herself in her awareness.

Regina is again on her horse, fleeing.  
  
This time it is Rumple who is stopping her, he is giddy, giddier than Emma has ever seen him. It gives her a very bad feeling.  
  
She observes Regina closely, hears her disavowing magic, witnesses Rumple casting the nets.  
  
 _“You could do so much now…”_  
  
 _His voice turns into a creepy singing note._  
  
 _“If you let me show you how.”_  
  
Emma gasps at the violent memory of Daniel that rises in Regina. True love’s kiss hadn’t brought him back to her, but magic, true magic might…  
  
However Regina has been familiar with the world’s rules since she was five years old. So she turns around and challenges him.  
  
 _“And what do you get out of it?”_  
  
She doesn’t realize that she’s already agreed, that she’s charging head first into her misery, guided by a tiny light of hope, a chance of gaining love back.  
  
It’s devastating.  
  
It’s unsettling.  
  
There is so much goodness in Regina, much more than in Emma. At that age Emma had already been a bitter teenager, walls up. Although Regina had no human example that Emma can see, she still managed to become that incredibly caring person who saved a crying child from a runaway horse.  
  
With a deep sigh Emma turns around. There is more that she’d like to see, but these are stories that either shouldn’t be told at all or shared by Regina directly.  
  
 _Big chance in hell for that._  
  
But, Emma realizes, a little bit shocked, she would love to hear Regina talk about her life, to understand how someone could go through so much and find it in themselves to love a tiny human being with as much fervor as Regina undoubtedly does love Henry.  
  
This night Emma doesn’t sleep. She watches the stars move across the sky and tries to drown out her thoughts. Success remains just out of reach.


	6. Chapter 6

On the fourth day reality gets a little bit too close to Henry. For a moment Emma seriously wishes she had left him behind. He might have been alone in an empty Storybrooke with or without his memories, but he might have been safe. This, here? Is anything but.  
  
They are joking, teasing Snow about the need to point out the names of every little flower, though Henry, at least, clearly loves it.  
  
Maybe they are laughing too loudly, maybe a horse neighs too much; whatever it is, it draws the attention of a nearby ogre camp.  
  
Yep, not just one of those big ugly creatures, but five huge misshapen ogres are following them alarmingly fast. _And they still look nothing like Shrek._  
  
Luckily for them, their horses are as keen to get out of there as they are. After galloping for about half an hour, Emma has learned two things.  
  
One, her son looks completely secure in front of her; two, she might get trampled by her own horse, if they don’t stop soon. She has lost her reigns, is holding on to her horse’s mane with nothing more than sheer desperation, her foot is tangled up in the stirrups and no matter how much of a danger that is, it’s not like she can change it in a full blown horse’s sprint. Or gallop. Whatever it is called.  
  
One look behind her is enough to tell Emma that they aren’t gaining much ground, or any. She has the slight suspicion that the ogres are just playing with them.  
  
“Look! Can you jump?”  
  
Ruby’s question is directed at Henry, but Emma feels her heart sink. Henry can’t jump, he hasn’t learned that yet.  
  
Scratch that, Henry’s horse takes the little stream in a wide leap, Henry looking like a prize rider. Fear closes Emma’s throat and she hears her mother screaming behind her.  
  
“Just hold on, Emma!”  
  
Emma holds on to the memories, she has recently witnessed. She presses her knees even closer to the horse’s body, challenging her tired muscles to hold her up, straightens her back, lifts her behind, and bows down to the horse’s neck as much as she dares.  
  
They jump.  
  
She’s almost losing the hold on the mane, but forces herself to let her body be taken by the motion, squeezes her knees even closer and sends a small thank you to whatever gods are listening when she safely lands back in the saddle. She almost tumbles down in the next motion, but claws at the mane and stays up. It’s one of the most terrifying things she’s ever done and it’s not even close to over.  
  
Ogres aren’t afraid of water, but they are blind and therefore skeptical of whatever stream they encounter. Luckily for the riders, there are mountains on their left side and somewhere on their right is a river. It means that they jump about another four streams, losing the ogres sometime around the second.  
  
When they finally stop, Emma is drenched in sweat from fear and exhaustion and a bit of the spray from the waters. The only reason she’s still alive is due to the fact that somewhere between the first and the second stream she got her foot back into the stirrup the way it belongs.  
  
Emma is the first one off the horse. Taking the reins over her horse’s head so that it knows to stay put, she runs over to Henry and helps him down.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“Yes, Ma,” he mumbles into her, hugging her close. She feels Snow’s hand shortly resting on her shoulder, expressing her own feelings for the both of them.  
  
Ruby simply shakes her head at all of them.  
  
“I have no idea how you all managed to stay on your horses, but congratulations.”  
  
Snow’s pale face silently agrees when she turns to her daughter.  
  
“How did you know how to do that?”  
  
Emma shrugs. She can hardly tell them that she has spent the last days invading Regina’s memories, can she?  
  
“Instinct?”  
  
Snow narrows her eyes, but thankfully Ruby distracts her, pointing at a strange formation of trees. A couple of birches are surrounded by fir trees.  
  
“Hey Snow? Look around, do you recognize anything?”  
  
Turning around Snow’s features show surprise and… relief? Emma doesn’t want to lose some of her tension too soon, but she grins when her mother smiles.  
  
“Yes, I believe they will show us the way. However, it will probably be a while until we find the road again. It’s only an hour until dawn, maybe we should rest here for tonight.”  
  
“No, don’t you remember?”  
  
Ruby shakes her head, immediately elaborating.  
  
“The road is just behind those. I think the ogres actually gave us a short-cut.”  
  
Snow knits her eyes together and takes in the forest around them.  
  
“You’re right. We are closer now.”  
  
Her exhaustion seems to disappear from one moment to the next.  
  
“We can be there in about two hours! Are you up for it? The horses need some movement to calm down anyway.”  
  
 _Sure, but they don’t need two hours, they would trot around anyway for about half an hour until they are calm enough._  
  
It’s all too obvious that neither Emma nor Henry are up for one more moment on horseback for the day (or ever), but they both agree, the need to be close to Regina surpassing the exhaustion.  
  
“We’re gonna see her tonight!”  
  
Henry whispers next to Emma, his eyes blazing, before uncertainty reaches his face.  
  
“She will want to see me, right?”  
  
“Of course, Henry. She loves you, you know that, right?”  
  
“But I…”  
  
“You love her, right?”  
  
“Of course!”  
  
“Then you will make it up to her,” Emma says, trying to comfort him, but somehow it doesn’t sound quite right.  
  
“We will make it up to her.”  
  
Because all that mess with Regina started when Emma trusted the false memories of a dog over her gut.  
  
And she has to make it up to Regina, not Henry.  
  
Henry grins up at her, relieved, and allows her to help him hop onto his horse again.  
  
They have dinner while their horses are walking and Ruby keeps her head up, ears perked for any sign of ogres.

* * *

By the time they reach the estate, three hours have passed and they are bone-tired.  
  
Over the last couple of minutes Emma's horse has picked up on her mood and grown nervous. The closer they get, the more energy is in the air. Emma can't just taste it, by now she sees the dark colors, making the magic shine not only in the (not so far) distance but right in front of her. It looks like vines, coming together in the very house in front of them.  
  
She is the first one off the horse, her move neither pretty nor graceful but fast. Before any of them have come to a stop, Emma is barging in through the big doors, running across a long hallway, throwing another set of doors wide open.  
  
Although the room is huge, Emma immediately zeroes in on Regina's unconscious form. She mentally swats the magic reaching for her away and kneels down next to her.  
  
Somehow Emma loses all memory of every motion she has learned to determine the state of someone’s health and pulls Regina’s head into her lap. On autopilot shaky hands move to Regina’s neck, feeling for a pulse.  
  
A steady rhythm loosens the knot in Emma’s stomach. She takes a relieved breath, gently pushing the strands of hair out of Regina’s face.  
  
“Regina?”  
  
She strokes her hair.  
  
“Hey, you don’t wanna pass up the opportunity to witness this disaster, do you? Not when you can sneer at me for being late, right?”  
  
But there is no reaction.  
  
Emma sighs and closes her eyes. She ignores the darkness around them and tries to find her middle, her energy, her magic. As soon as she feels the warmth rushing through her, she directs it to Regina. There is a map of stars in her head, connected by vibrant lines, humming with energy, transporting, taking, nourishing itself. Emma’s eyes fly open.  
  
“Holy shit.”  
  
There is no way she can do this without Regina’s help, but she has no idea how to wake her. Stopping the energy flow might break the realm apart, she can see that now. Directing it back into Regina will kill her for certain. Her magic has been feeding this disaster for the past six months. She wouldn’t live a minute with all that power inside of her. And if she did, none of them would want to be around for it, including Regina herself.  
  
Emma can’t do that to her.  
  
 _There has to be another way._  
  
For a fleeting moment she wonders how no one else has seen it before.  
  
“Regina, please, you have to wake up, you have to tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do.”  
  
Predictably the stubborn woman remains unresponsive.  
  
“Mom!”  
  
Henry.  
  
 _No!_  
  
 _He can’t see Regina like that, he…_  
  
The next second Henry has fallen next to his mothers. He looks up at Emma with wide eyes.  
  
“What is wrong with her?”  
  
There are no lies between them, no matter what version of their lives. It’s their promise.  
  
So Emma nods toward the sky.  
  
“The magic, it’s taking its force from her.”  
  
His eyes grow even wider, his lower lip starts to tremble.  
  
“But, you can stop this, right? You know how to stop it, right? You have to, Ma! You have to!”  
  
Emma feels her own eyes burning as she forces herself to nod.  
  
“I can, Henry. But I need her to tell me how.”  
  
He nods, somehow taking a reassurance out of her words. He takes Regina’s hand into his.  
  
“Mom? It’s me, Henry.”  
  
Their brave little prince takes a deep breath, before he continues with a clear voice.  
  
“You need to wake up, Mom. Emma is here. She can stop what is happening, but you have to tell her how, okay? We need you, Mom. We need you to wake up.”  
  
Regina’s body starts to shimmer, glowing softly.  
  
“It’s working, Henry. Keep talking.”  
  
He gives her an incredulous look, clearly not able to see the magic, but continues to encourage his unconscious mother, telling her to come back for him in kind words that are breaking Emma’s heart.  
  
The glow flickers and almost stops, but Henry, who doesn’t see it, isn’t discouraged. He leans in closer, whispering in Regina’s ear now, and kisses her on the cheek.  
  
There is no bright glow of magic, no true love’s kiss, but it does its job, Regina's eyes flutter open, she looks across the room until she focuses on Emma.  
  
"Emma."  
  
Emma knows that this is the time to take her hands away, to help Regina up, but instead she lets her hand rest on Regina’s shoulders, moving her thumbs in calming circles.  
  
"We were pretty worried about you."  
  
Regina scrunches up her face at the words. It looks like it costs her a huge effort, when she moves her eyes and finds Henry. He is giving her his most radiant smile.  
  
"Hi mom."  
  
It's so little, but it says so much. Regina returns his smile and actually tries to lift herself up, only to sag back against Emma.  
  
"Careful. Judging by the moldy bread on that plate there, you've been out for a while."  
  
It must be the exhaustion that makes Regina put up a hand at Emma's face. She smiles up at them, happily, before she frowns at Emma.  
  
"Idiot."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"What day is it?"  
  
"Wednesday."  
  
Regina's barely existing countenance seems to waver for a second, before she catches herself.  
  
"Let me guess, you arrived here on Thursday?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
Regina gives her a scornful look. She allows them to help her up and onto the couch, all the while keeping Henry in her arms.  
  
"You ripped another hole into the seams. It's closing in faster."  
  
Emma nods slowly while she sits down next to Regina. She gives Henry an encouraging smile before she turns back to Regina.  
  
"I know. I can... feel it?"  
  
"You can?"  
  
By now Emma knows how to read Regina's emotions. No matter how much she tries to hide them, they shine clearly through her entire being. Emma isn’t sure, whether it is because she has learned how much Regina does feel, but she can clearly see the surprise that’s reflected in Regina’s eyes.  
  
"How close is it?"  
  
Regina shuts her eyes and tightens her grip on Emma's hand, not even bothering to sneer at her anymore.  
  
Emma sucks in a deep breath as the connections to the magic light up in her mind, even brighter than before.  
  
 _It seems so close._  
  
"Two days at the most."  
  
"But?"  
  
"It's rapidly approaching Snow's castle."  
  
"David!"  
  
Snow breathes behind them. Both Emma and Regina flinch at the sound of her voice. Regina slowly lets go of Emma's hand, in exchange for leaning more towards her son. Emma tilts her head at the way Regina pulled away from her as soon as she noticed Snow’s presence.  
  
"He is fine, Snow, at least for a couple of hours," Regina assures her, unusually kind.  
  
"But I thought the castle was the epicenter."  
  
"It was."  
  
"Until you went away."  
  
The accusing tone in her voice is not lost on anyone, but Regina simply nods.  
  
“There was no way to stop it, Snow.”  
  
“But we…”  
  
Snow stops herself, obviously trying to reign in the accusations and failing.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?"  
  
"Because killing me would have collapsed the realm immediately."  
  
Snow seems genuinely confused.  
  
"Who said anything about killing?"  
  
"Oh, don't bother to pretend, Snow. I know you only kept me around out of convenience, hoping I'd provide an easy solution."  
  
"No, I..."  
  
Snow is clearly flustered and it's just as clear that Regina takes it as a victory.  
  
Emma shakes her head. She sighs before she stands up and offers her hand to Regina. They don’t have time for Regina hiding herself behind her snark.  
  
"Can I talk to you outside, please?"  
  
“Mom?”  
  
Henry is clearly outraged, but Emma winks at him.  
  
“Just a second, Henry. You see, everything’s fine.”  
  
He looks at Regina for confirmation, but Regina hesitates before giving him wide smile. But he nods and so she takes Emma’s offered hand and allows her to pull her up. She doesn’t even protest at the support of Emma’s arm around her waist, even if she makes a point to support her own weight. At least until they leave Snow and Henry behind them. They are barely out of sight when Regina starts to relax and actually leans on Emma.  
  
Once the doors are closed behind them Emma looks at Regina in worry.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“Foregoing the fact that you’ve just spent six days without food or water, which is impossible, going against every rule of science…”  
  
“But not by the rules of magic,” Regina interrupts her while she lowers herself on the grand staircase, sighing in relief.  
  
“You’re really not okay, are you?”  
  
“Splendid.”  
  
“Well, you still are determined, I give you that.”  
  
Regina meets Emma’s eyes with a soft smile and Emma sits down next to her.  
  
“So, what do we do?”  
  
“There is nothing to do. Really, Emma, why did you have to come back?”  
  
“Dreams and the distinct feeling of being slightly crazy?”  
  
Regina looks at her like she might agree with the crazy part and Emma huffs.  
  
“Look, I didn’t have a choice, okay? Henry and I found Storybrooke, we went to the well without knowing what the hell we were doing. It literally sucked us in, spit us out into this world and returned our memories on the way.”  
  
For a moment Regina seems to waver, clearly wanting details, but she simply closes her eyes, visibly exhausted.  
  
Without thinking about it Emma takes her hand, willingly feeling the paths toward the magic.  
  
“Tell me how.”  
  
“You know, how, Emma. Just do it. Don’t keep torturing me. Why did you have to wake me?”  
  
“No, you’re gonna tell me about the other option.”  
  
At this Regina’s eyes flutter open, obviously surprised at Emma’s knowledge.  
  
“We have roughly ten hours, if you want to save your father and all the people that have gathered at your parents’ castle, you should start soon. You can feel the paths, you can reverse the flow of energy. What else is there to do?”  
  
“I did not come here to kill you, Regina.”  
  
Emma uses a tone that allows no objection, not expecting Regina to show much protest, but dark eyes blaze suddenly.  
  
“Are you so sure of that? You came here, knowing..”  
  
“I’ve read your book of theories, I’ve talked to Snow, Regina. I can stop it. I know I can. And you can tell me how. What are you waiting for?”  
  
“Emma, you don’t have the ability for…”  
  
“Could you stop being the martyr for once? I’m getting tired of…”  
  
She breaks off, reigns in the words that are lying on the tip of her tongue. She’s getting tired of losing her, in a way that has nothing to do with Henry.  
  
Regina regards her for a moment, her face carefully arranged to a blank mask. Emma answers her piercing gaze unwavering.  
  
“You don’t get to do that.”  
  
She can’t say that Henry needs her. While it wouldn’t be a lie, it would sound like one, because it’s only half of the truth. Emma wants her to be around.  
  
Some of these thoughts must be visible in her eyes, because suddenly Regina’s shoulders lose their tension and she sighs.  
  
“What if it doesn’t work?”  
  
Emma grits her teeth. She closes her eyes for a second, knowing that, in that case, they have to put Henry first, knowing that Regina is trying to figure out how far Emma is willing to go. So she meets Regina’s eyes with a hardened resolve.  
  
“Then I have to bite the bullet.”  
  
Although they both know what exactly that means, Regina simply nods.  
  
"Good."  
  
"Good, yes," Emma copies, speculating that Regina might be the only person to regard her own death that way, trying really hard not to think about what it would do to her, having to kill her.  
  
"But you have to do it right."  
  
"I will."  
  
She has to. So that all of them will be safe, _including Regina._  
  
"Not that. If it doesn't work you have to start sending the energy back to me, not one connection at the time, but everything at the same time. I won't be able to help you with that."  
  
"Got it. Now, what do I do instead of...that?"  
  
"You know the difference between our magic?"  
  
"Different emotions."  
  
Regina raises an eyebrow, but nods.  
  
"Good."  
  
She takes a deep breath, before she holds both of her hands out.  
  
"Now the only way this will work is if you are able to lose all of your doubts and inhibitions. They're holding you back. Remember when you helped me with the trigger?"  
  
"It was the only way."  
  
"Well, this isn't. It has to be your choice. You have to do it out of the goodness of your heart."  
  
There is no scathing behind the words, no teasing, only a tired exhaustion, accepting something that Emma can’t.  
  
"I'm not.."  
  
"I know. But we both know that that isn't how it works. You only need to feel as much goodness as there is darkness to be eradicated."  
  
“Judging by the magic outside that is a lot, Regina.”  
  
“The magic feeds on me. Once we connect you need to trust me.”  
  
“Trust you?”  
  
“You need to eradicate _my_ magic.”  
  
Suddenly the implication becomes clear to Emma. She needs to balance Regina’s magic. While she had gotten to know Regina pretty well in Neverland (and through her diaries) she’s not quite sure she knows Regina well enough to find an exact balance between them.  
  
“How?”  
  
“Trust.”  
  
Emma meets Regina’s eyes, transporting all the fear she can’t put into words. She watches Regina swallow.  
  
“This time I can’t guide you and keep up the trust for both of us, you have to feel the emotions, direct them to where you want them to go.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Emma tries to take a breath and hears her own sigh.  
  
“How?”  
  
“Emma!”  
  
“Where do I want the magic to go? Where do I want us to go? We have to go through to get to Storybrooke, right?”  
  
“That is your decision.”  
  
“Mine?”  
  
“Either you simply sever every connection that magic has on me, leaving us here, or you take us through to Storybrooke in the process. It shouldn’t be too difficult since the connection is still open.”  
  
A hollow laugh that sounds a bit too hysterical makes its way out of Emma’s throat.  
  
“I have to decide?”  
  
Regina simply nods, resigned to her fate.  
  
Emma unfolds her hands from Regina, stands up and starts pacing.  
  
“How? I can barely handle deciding whether Henry should go to karate or have piano lessons. How am I…?”  
  
She stops and turns to the door, feeling a safety behind it.  
  
“Shouldn’t we think about what everyone else would want? Shouldn’t we ask… I don’t know, maybe Snow?”  
  
“No. It’s your decision, Emma. You have to stand behind what you’re doing or it won’t work. However, if you really don’t want to kill me immediately, I’d like to go back, the couch is way more comfortable than this staircase. And you didn’t really need to take me away from Snow. You can trust that we have become quite… civil with one another.”  
  
Emma snorts, but Regina ignores her and gets up without looking at her. She stands on unsteady feet and Emma finds herself reaching out towards her without a second thought. Neither of them comment on how much Regina seems to need the help. Emma pretends not to notice the glint in Regina’s eyes when she focuses on Henry again. He’s sitting on the couch, Snow fidgeting in front of him, Ruby next to her, apparently she got the horses settled.  
  
“You’re not saying goodbye,” Emma whispers while Regina untangles her hand, conquering the last distance on her own and sits down next to their son.  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
It’s Ruby, her tone a lot less confrontational than Emma would have expected. Looking up, Emma almost smirks. Ruby has one hand placed at Snow’s shoulder, clearly holding back whatever anxious questions Snow was about to throw at them.  
  
Emma takes a deep breath to gather her thoughts, while she steps closer to them, trying to ready herself for what she is about to do and, at the same time, give Regina some time with Henry.  
  
Her mother’s tense face isn’t exactly the encouragement she needs, but a shaky smile changes it immediately. Snow reaches out to her, stops the move to hug her in mid-stride and opts for squeezing her upper arm reassuringly instead.  
  
Emma ignores the pang inside and tries to appreciate that Snow is treating her like she wants to be treated for once.  
  
“Remember what Regina told you about the energy?”  
  
Snow nods under Ruby’s scrutinizing stare and answers, repeating the words Regina said to her a week ago.  
  
“It comes from excess energy, seeking vengeance for breaking laws of nature. The rift between the realms was created when we came back.”  
  
Emma nods.  
  
“There are two ways to close the rift.”  
  
She hears Regina drawing in a sharp breath, but ignores her. If she has to do this, she’s gonna do it right.  
  
Snow nods.  
  
“You have to do it. You are the counter to close what has been created by Regina’s magic.”  
  
“Yes, my magic can counter the energy that’s still being drawn from Regina.”  
  
“So, what do we do?”  
  
“Well, Regina seems to think that I should just take the easy and safe way and push all the energy that’s been leaking from her curse, from her magic, back into her.”  
  
“No!”  
  
Ruby violently shakes her head, understanding exactly what it means.  
  
“There has to be another way than killing her to save us.”  
  
Emma nods, not surprised, but partly relieved by Snow’s assenting nod.  
  
“There is. It is more difficult, and I’m not sure that I can manage it, because it requires me to sever every connection Regina has to the rift, but I think it’s worth a try.”  
  
“Of course it is!” Snow immediately agrees, but Ruby is more careful.  
  
“What are the risks?”  
  
She addresses Regina, who slowly loosens her embrace with Henry to answer them. Her quick answer proves that she has been listening to them.  
  
“Well, she could fail and end up using her last bit of willpower to push the remaining energy back into me. It would mean that the energy will creep further along in the time Emma tries, but other than that, there’s really no real danger.”  
  
There is something in her voice that makes Emma turn around.  
  
“The truth, Regina.”  
  
“Well, pushing all the energy back into me, could be a huge onslaught of energy that could not only result in my demise, but cause an implosion of the remaining land.”  
  
Henry has grown white and before he can protest, Emma grins.  
  
“Well, it is good then that we won’t let it come to that, right?”  
  
Regina follows her gaze and smiles, though the tension shows when she grinds her teeth.  
  
“Right.”  
  
“So, how long do we have?”  
  
Emma keeps her voice casual, receiving an eyeroll from Regina.  
  
“About ten hours until it reaches Snow’s castle, just as I said.”  
  
“Okay, and how long do you suppose we need to sever those pesky energy ropes?”  
  
“Well, Miss Swan, how many do you count?”  
  
Regina has raised her eyebrows, but Emma doesn't allow her grin to falter. There are more connections than she can count, just like there are too many stars in the sky.  
  
“Enough to know that I need something to drink before we start.”  
  
Snow glares at both of them, before she turns around and offers to get some water from the horses.  
  
Emma settles down next to Regina, giving Henry a reassuring smile.  
  
“How long?”  
  
“It all depends on your ability to concentrate, Miss Swan.”  
  
“Emma. We’ve been over it. It’s Emma.”  
  
Regina sighs and they both deliberately ignore the frightened glances Henry throws towards both of them.  
  
“I would estimate that we need most of the time.”  
  
Emma swallows. _No time to waste then._ She gets up and passes Regina to kneel in front of Henry.  
  
“Hey kid, this is the hard part, right?”  
  
He nods.  
  
“You just have to have faith in us, okay?”  
  
“I have. You’ll do it.”  
  
She gives him a crooked smile.  
  
“I hope so, Henry.”  
  
“I know so, Ma.”  
  
“Smart-ass,” she grins and ruffles his hair. He smiles widely back at her.  
  
“Language,” Regina chides, but her admonishment loses its force when she draws Henry in for another hug.  
  
“You trust us?”, she whispers as Emma gets up, just hearing his confident answer.  
  
“I do.”  
  
Of course he does.  
  
Snow is back in the room with their water flask. Her big green eyes are swimming as Emma leans in to hug her.  
  
“Just have faith.”  
  
Snow nods violently against her shoulder.  
  
“I do.”  
  
Emma gives her a confident smile, hoping that the more she feigns confidence, the sooner the feeling will actually appear. She accepts the water, taken aback when Ruby gathers her into an embrace.  
  
“I trust that you have this.”  
  
Emma lets out a shaky laugh.  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“But just in case you don’t, I’m gonna be right next to you. Remember that I have a connection to magic?”  
  
Confused, Emma nods.  
  
“If you find yourself needing more power, more energy, hold out your hand, I’ll grab it and you can take mine.”  
  
When Emma looks at Regina for affirmation, she nods at her, calmer than before. They’re incredibly lucky that they brought Ruby with them.  
  
Or maybe Ruby knew all along that she could help.  
  
Slowly Emma settles down next to Regina, cross-legged, and holds her hands out for Regina to take them, while trying to ignore Henry’s anxious face behind her.  
  
Regina focuses on Ruby.  
  
“It is nearly nightfall. If we’re not done before dawn, you detach Emma from me and tell her to push the energy through the remaining connections. You have to be direct and certain. Don’t waver, don’t let her doubt you.”  
  
“No! Mom!”  
  
Regina doesn’t even flinch, but settles her eyes on Snow.  
  
“And you are going to hold him back until it’s done. Are we clear?”  
  
Both women nod, while Henry clings to Regina even closer, seeming ready to crawl on her lap, no matter his height.  
  
She strokes his back, before she takes his face in both of her hands.  
  
“Have trust in us. It’s what will keep us going.”  
  
He nods, strong, while tears are spilling over, running down his cheeks.  
  
Regina takes a deep breath and turns away from Henry on her right side, to Emma on her left. She puts her legs under her and straightens her shoulders before she meets Emma’s eyes.  
  
“Here or there?”  
  
“There,” Emma answers without hesitation. She knows she’ll be blamed for this, but even people that prefer this world over the other one have to see that it’s better to have a whole world at their disposal instead of one weakened, almost destroyed land with insurmountable magical borders.  
  
Regina nods, approval in her eyes, her lips almost curling into a faint smile, and Emma feels that she has made the right decision.  
  
The feeling of content and security disappears as soon as Regina’s hands close around hers. She gasps as the net of energy lights up in her mind, more beautiful and more terrifying than before. There are literally hundreds of tendrils connecting Regina to the rift, drawing energy from her.  
  
Emma can’t help but be impressed at how long Regina has sustained under that pressure.  
  
“Where do I start?”  
  
“Anywhere.”  
  
“Regina,” she growls, hearing the answering sigh.  
  
“If you feel up to it, I’d be greatly relieved if you started with the largest ones first. However it might be easier for you to start with a couple small ones.”  
  
While Regina speaks, the mentioned paths light up, the energy flow intensifying before slowing down again.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“I lost concentration. Sorry. It won’t happen again.”  
  
It’s an impossible promise and they both know it. Emma takes a deep breath and concentrates, sifting through the connection, trying to decide.  
  
She is aware that they are sitting in a closed room in a castle, but with her eyes closed she can watch the tendrils until they reach the huge threatening border of the realm. They are all clawing at Regina. It is a wonder that the realm hasn’t collapsed yet.  
  
And if she wants Regina to keep helping her, she needs to do this right. She needs to give Regina some relief.  
  
So she focuses on one of the bigger ones, lets her energy settle around it, feel it.  
  
“Ripping or loosening?”  
  
“No ripping, Emma.”  
  
Regina sounds tense and Emma moves her thumbs to calm her down, stroking her hands.  
  
“Got it.”  
  
She intertwines her energy into the flow, keeping it close to herself, preventing it from absorbing into Regina’s. Instead she imagines tying a cord around the string, enforces her imagination with her magic, and slowly closes it.  
  
Ice is clawing at her, darkness reaching out for her, promising an easy solution, beckoning her. Emma abstains and keeps closing the connection.  
  
In a last revolt the energy throws a picture at her mind. A picture connected with so much hatred and anger that she gasps, almost pulling away.  
  
 _Regina is pushing Cora away from her, pushing her into a mirror, a portal, damning her to another world._  
  
Without a moment’s hesitation, Emma throws her own thought back at the magic, a picture of Snow hugging her in her mind. Regina tenses under her and it doesn’t work. The flow becomes stronger and Emma stops thinking.  
  
The next moment is Henry senior in the stables, presenting the grown Rocinante to Regina, a happiness surging through her that is not her own.  
  
Regina gasps and the connection breaks.  
  
Emma can feel Regina’s hands slackening but she holds on to her. After a silent moment Regina finds her voice first.  
  
“How?”  
  
“The big ones first, right?”  
  
“Emma?”  
  
There is terrible quiver in Regina’s voice, asking her to stop deflecting, and Emma feels her shoulders drop.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
She silently waits a moment for Regina’s breathing to return to normal, not able to put her thoughts into words, before something occurs to her.  
  
“Did you know?”  
  
“That it had to be like that? No, of course not. I would have never…”  
  
“Trust, right?”  
  
Emma tries for nonchalance. To her relief Regina accepts it, though she must feel the trembling in Emma’s hands.  
  
“Next one?”  
  
“Next one.”  
  
But as Emma moves to the next big one, she can feel Regina hesitating. So she turns away.  
  
“A small one instead?”  
  
It doesn’t feel the least bit weird that she can see an echo of Regina’s nod in her mind. She is certain that Henry, Snow and Ruby must be throwing questions at them, but she can’t hear either one of them. They are in their own little bubble, and for the first time Emma feels confident that they can do this.  
  
“Do you wanna… choose?”  
  
It’s the right thing to say, a small connection lights up in front of them. She feels Regina assessing it.  
  
“I can see them now.”  
  
It’s strange and weird, but Emma hasn’t forgotten that that’s how her life works these days. So she waits for Regina to explain.  
  
“It’s a heart I took. One I never destroyed.”  
  
An unfamiliar face lights up in Emma’s mind, a young woman in dirty rags. Her mind makes the connection before she can do it herself, presenting her with the image of a young, healthy, woman working at the daycare center in Storybrooke. To Emma she always looked happy. She is surprised that she doesn’t have her heart, but the image of her smile helps her to break the connection almost as an afterthought.  
  
“This is going to be tiresome.”  
  
Emma simply nods, looking for the next one.  
  
“You won’t always find a counter product.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
She is relying on the memories of Henry, the memories that aren’t her own to help her through it. _It’s like it’s meant to be._  
  
She ponders that while she disconnects more little connections. All of them represent consequences of Regina’s magic, some seem irrelevant, like capturing a running maid with magic to return her to her family, instead of allowing her to run away with a brutal looking guy in blood smeared clothing. But Regina’s magic doesn’t work on intent. It’s black and it’s etched into her soul. Emma consciously answers with the same maid coming twice a month to babysit Henry, getting more money than a single babysitter should.  
  
They slowly settle into a rhythm, allowing their minds to confront up to three little images at once. Emma feels that Regina is hesitant to approach the bigger ones. She knows that Regina will be furious when she finds out how Emma knows to react to some of them.  
  
But it’s about trust. And they have only hours left.  
  
So she focuses on one of the bigger ones.  
  
“Not that one.”  
  
“Regina, we need to sever them all.”  
  
There is a silence, mentally as well as audibly, until Regina sighs.  
  
“I suppose so.”  
  
Still, a mental wall prevents Emma from gripping that specific connection.  
  
“Regina?”  
  
“Tell Henry, I love him.”  
  
The connection becomes clearer and Emma knows that her determination is going to be tested.  
  
“Trust, Regina”, Emma counters, her voice trembling.  
  
“Trust,” Regina repeats and loosens her grip.  
  
Emma knows that it has to be bad. Just a couple of minutes ago, she had witnessed Regina rip out another girl's heart, taking her place as Rumple’s apprentice. Taken aback, Emma had used Henry’s first smile as counterweight, feeling like she had given up something precious too soon. Regina had swallowed, but not closed up.  
  
So, she can’t say that the image of Graham tumbling to the ground, gasping for air, takes her entirely by surprise.  
  
But she also can’t say that she expected it.  
  
Instinct makes her hands draw back, instinct forces her to hold on. God knows what happens, if she breaks their connection before it is done.  
  
“You...?”  
  
Part of her had known it since the curse had been broken, since the taking of hearts had become an actual occurrence instead of a fairytale. She had put that part to the back of her mind, preferring ignorance.  
  
Ignorance she is no longer granted.  
  
 _She feels Regina’s hand settle around Graham’s heart, pressing on it, closing in, just as his lips touch Emma. She can feel the tingle of magic on his lips, reaching out for him,_ her _magic, entirely different from his perspective, yet familiar. The feeling of her own magic distracts her for a moment, confuses her, just as his whole being lights up. His memories pour in, enlighten him. His smile, his happiness, so strong that he doesn’t care where his heart is. For a moment he is happy anyway, maybe a bit dulled, a bit restrained by the distance of his heart, but he is…_  
  
 _The grip on his heart strengthens, presses on unrelenting, reducing his most precious organ to ashes._  
  
There is pain on Emma’s head, her left eyebrow, her right hand, phantom pain, induced by Regina, throbbing.  
  
Emma feels her stomach revolting, sickness threatening to overtake her. Part of her wants to revel in that feeling, show Regina the natural reaction to someone’s death, something different from the dark pleasure that had kept Regina closing her hand, even through her own pain.  
  
Another part wants to go back to that night. Wants to hit Regina in the cemetery until she can’t get up anymore.  
  
Her hands are trembling and suddenly there are different energies, Henry touching Regina’s back, pushing in, Ruby putting her hands on top of their enfolded ones, forcing them to stay together, and Emma knows that she has to find something to set against that loss. Against that power of destruction, against that feeling of total control, something so rare and innocent that Emma’s knows she won’t find it in her own mind.  
  
She takes a deep breath, allowing pictures of Daniel to accumulate in her brain. _They are racing across the fields, chasing through the woods, apple tarts, picnics, stolen kisses in the stables, covert touches helping up a horse, soft caresses from a hand that has crept under a shirt, a vest slowly being opened, an honest embrace, the feeling of home, safety, being loved and to love._  
  
Emma doesn’t control the images anymore, she lets them flow, one after another, taking new ones out of Regina’s mind. Every one of them, conjuring up all the happiness that Regina has felt with Daniel, all the good that this young girl was able to feel. She loses herself in those feelings, still amazed at the openness of Regina’s feelings, still fascinated by the ease with which Regina gave up her heart to him.  
  
She only stops when she feels Ruby’s hands tightening, smoothing over Regina’s trembling fingers. Something wet drips onto her hand and she knows that Regina is crying.  
  
There is an apology on Emma’s lips, but it is stuck in her throat.  
  
She doesn’t have to ask why, because she felt it. The hurt, the anger, the confusion, the fear. There is nothing and too much to say.  
  
So she simply takes a deep breath and moves forward.  
  
Soon different images fill their heads. Deeds long forgotten, clawing at Regina, sticking to her, taking her energy.  
  
After Graham it is both harder and easier to go through the other pictures. Some of it has to do with the fact that Regina directs them to times she truly was the Evil Queen, so lost that she is out of touch with her emotions. There she gives a command to slaughter an entire village, here she orders a simple thief to the gallows.  
  
Though they are truly horrifying, they are almost easy to counter. Regina is so lost in her anger that simple glances of happy memories suffice to break the connections.  
  
Slowly becoming numb to the pictures, Emma supposes that this is exactly what Regina wants. She rebels slowly against it, choosing a different thread than the one Regina points out.  
  
Immediately its pain and anger grip her tightly, amplified.  
  
For a moment Emma hesitates, confused.  
  
She doesn’t notice that the threat starts feeding on her energy, until Regina squeezes her hand. Without another thought she severs the connection, thankfully squeezing Regina’s hand back.  
  
Only when she allows herself to concentrate on the other woman, she becomes aware that Regina didn’t try to numb Emma, she tried to calm herself.  
  
“You need a different coping mechanism.”  
  
“I beg your pardon?”  
  
“First you lost yourself in hatred in anger, now you seem to distance yourself from feelings altogether. It’s not… It won’t work forever, Regina.”  
  
“Well, lucky for you my hours are counted.”  
  
“Bullshit. We are already through a decent amount of those paths.”  
  
She feels rather than hears Regina swallowing.  
  
“So… you’re?”  
  
“I keep going.”  
  
Relief threads through the numbness and Emma smiles.  
  
“Concentrating on positive emotions may work.”  
  
“Isn’t that what we’re doing, right now?”  
  
“No, we’re severing the connections that black magic has on you by setting white against it.”  
  
 _And in the process Emma is making them relive every bad thing Regina has ever done, absolving her from them, effectively forgiving her._  
  
Emma tenses up at that thought, but forces herself to keep her breathing steady.  
  
Is she forgiving her?  
  
 _Does it really matter?_  
  
She has known about Regina’s past for quite a while (not counting the months lived in obliviousness) and she has witnessed how much Regina loves Henry, she has accepted her for the person she is now. Not the one she has been.  
  
Even though that person is still within her.  
  
 _Even when it had been that person that killed Graham?_  
  
“Emma.”  
  
She barely hears her own name over her warring thoughts, stopping short when she feels Regina disentangling her hands to hold Emma’s between hers. She is so incredibly gentle with her and for a moment Emma freezes, not sure why this makes her uncomfortable.  
  
Then she realizes that Regina is treating her like a wild animal, ready to spook.  
  
“I’m here,” she reassures her instead.  
  
Regina smiles.  
  
“Shall we keep going then?”  
  
Taking a deep breath Emma nods.  
  
“Sure.”  
  
They continue for another while, slowly finding a way back into their tentative rhythm.  
  
Emma’s awareness broadens throughout their work. She doesn’t know whether she widens their bubble or perceives things outside of it better, but she can hear Henry’s calm breathing. A smile sneaks up on her at their son being able to sleep through it all.  
  
“Can you hear him breathing?”  
  
She feels Regina nod.  
  
“Yes. You do, too?”  
  
“Yeah, why?”  
  
“Well, that means that we can move to another part now.”  
  
“Another part?”  
  
“Do you feel the energy surrounding us?”  
  
“You mean the bubble we’re in?”  
  
“If you want to call it that, yes.”  
  
“What about it?”  
  
“Try to draw Henry into it.”  
  
“He is in. He’s snuggled against your side.”  
  
“You can feel that?”  
  
“Yeah, is that strange?”  
  
“No, it’s good. Who else is in the room and where are they?”  
  
“Snow is sitting on the table, staring at us, Ruby’s kneeling in front of us, she’s sleeping, too, but lightly.”  
  
“Good. If you go further away, can you see other people?”  
  
Emma shrugs, she doesn’t need to concentrate on that.  
  
“Not really for a long way. There are not many people around.”  
  
“Emma, concentrate. You can see them.”  
  
With a sigh Emma expands her vision again to see her surroundings with her eyes closed, the bundles of energy woven within. Three people are in the woods behind the castle. She mentally makes her way toward her father, acknowledging all the people on the way, Regina’s voice leading her.  
  
“Take every little human energy mentally into our little bubble.”  
  
Once she reaches the castle, they expand her vision again, until she looks at the remaining lands from a bird’s-eye view, collecting all the little blobs of human energy.  
  
She lets out a relieved breath, once they’re done, blindly beaming at Regina.  
  
“That wasn’t so hard.”  
  
“Tell that to your body, dear. You’re trembling from exhaustion.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Regina is right, of course. Emma’s limbs shiver uncontrollably. She tries to reign them in and fails.  
  
“Well, all the more reason to get on with this, right?”  
  
Regina shakes her head, and Emma can feel her calculating energy travel over her, scrutinizing her.  
  
“Well, there isn’t much left and it isn’t exactly like we have a choice.”  
  
“True.”  
  
“So, when we sever the last connection you have to take us with it, through the rift and into Storybrooke.”  
  
“Sure, I couldn’t even teleport in Neverland. Let’s start with beaming a whole population.”  
  
“It’s not beaming a whole population, Emma. It’s…”  
  
“I know, I know. It’s different. Just tell me, how.”  
  
Regina takes a deep breath, clearly exasperated.  
  
“Come on, I know I can be slow, but I’m trying here.”  
  
“It’s going home, Emma.”  
  
Regina’s soft voice takes her off guard. It echoes deep within her, wraps her in reassurances and security.  
  
She is ready to listen, she is ready to do it.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“You simply follow the last path outward to the rift, concentrate on taking our bubble with you and once we’re there, you concentrate on home. Paint a picture of Storybrooke in your mind. You’ll take us there.”  
  
“That’s it?”  
  
“You came through the well with some unconscious need to be with your parents. Imagine what your magic can do, once you consciously put your mind to it.”  
  
She doesn’t correct Regina that the unconscious need had nothing to do with her parents and everything to do with a pair of dark eyes, but decides on a joke instead.  
  
“Beam an entire population?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
For a moment Emma ponders, which path to attack next, but they soon agree on taking as many connections as they can, at once. Regina walks her through every scenario, describing what she’ll have to counter, carefully avoiding the only big one left.  
  
“Regina?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Shouldn’t we tackle this big one, too? I mean, no offense, but it seems to be a difficult one and I’m losing energy, maybe we should just get on with it instead of waiting until the bitter end and failing after all that work?”  
  
Regina doesn’t answer. Instead she leans back from Emma, her knees no longer touching her, the warmth of her body further away than ever, only their hands connecting them.  
  
“I’m not sure, we’ll handle that at all.”  
  
“So you left the most difficult to the end?”  
  
“I… Yes.”  
  
The hesitation is so out of character that Emma reigns in any sarcastic remark.  
  
“Okay, then we’ll do it your way. We’ll sever the last connections all at once with the biggest one only momentarily delayed. How does that sound?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Wanna give me a warning?”  
  
But the shaking of her head tells her enough. There isn’t going to be a warning.  
  
Emma has paid enough attention in the last couple of hours to make an educated guess, so she focuses on the day of Henry’s birth, on the fake memory, where she actually held him, kept him. In her mind he always looked a little too big to be a couple of minutes old. It might have something to do with the fact that Regina was only able to provide her with memories of a three-week old Henry. She is certain that it will work.  
  
 _It has to work._  
  
“Concentrate on the bubble.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
 _Human energies._ Emma is happy that she is somehow able to keep the thought of all those humans in the back of her mind. She is going to take them home.  
  
There is an onslaught of pictures once she severs the remaining connections. She starts following the magic back to the rift immediately, breaking the big path on the way.  
  
Finding Henry senior staring up at her with both, horror and resignation takes her breath away. There is a vast array of desperate emotions running through her, too many feelings to sort through occupy their minds.  
  
She holds an entire population in her head.  
  
She holds an entire population in her head, and all that Emma can do is lift one hand after another, careful never to lose contact with both hands, to rest on Regina’s shoulders.  
  
There she hesitates. She is not sure what to do.  
  
She had planned to draw Regina into a hug to solve something that mental images didn’t seem to be able to break through.  
  
Instead she pulls Regina forward only a fraction, leans into her and rests her forehead on her.  
  
“It’s okay. You are safe. You are safe and you found your happiness. You said you don’t have any regrets, everything you did, it brought Henry to you. You are his whole world. You have to know that he loves you. You raised him, Regina. Despite everything that happened to you, you have such a great capacity to love. Even through his most angry words, you never wavered in your love, you never resented him.”  
  
Emma feels the big path breaking, she feels Regina crumbling under her words, feels her letting go of the biggest remorse she has. So she keeps going, her thumbs slowly stroking Regina’s neck, as they move towards the rift.  
  
“Look at all that you did for him. You gave him up, you gave him to me, when really, we both knew that I wasn’t nearly as equipped to raise a child as I wished to be. So you gave another sacrifice. You gave me _your_ memories with him. You gave me the memories of raising him, when really you were the one that shaped him into the amazing being that he is. You showed him, gave him a part of you that is as real as every other part, your kindness, your love.”  
  
Tears are dropping from Regina’s eyes and Emma feels them moving toward Storybrooke. It’s like they are being pulled through the rift, the connection to Henry senior long gone.  
  
They are both trembling close to one another, as much out of physical as of mental exhaustion.  
  
There is a lightheadedness that makes Emma feel incredibly loopy.  
  
Without another thought she reaches out to gently brush a tear away.  
  
“I’m amazed at your strength.”  
  
A hollow laugh finds its way out of Regina’s throat and Emma smiles.  
  
She doesn’t think about the consequences when she opens her eyes, slowly lifting Regina’s chin, forcing her to look at her.  
  
“You are strong. Your ability to love makes you strong.”  
  
Regina flinches under her gaze or because of her words, but Emma doesn’t give her a chance to draw back. She ignores the flutter of bright energy around them as much as the irregular beating of her heart and leans even closer, her lips meeting the corner of Regina’s mouth in a soft caress that was supposed to meet her cheek, that was supposed to be gentle, caring, not…  
  
Before she can draw back again, there is a hand on her neck, drawing her in, lips softly pressing on hers.  
  
The kiss is sloppy and wet, the tears having only something to do with it.  
  
But it is also slow and gentle and… caring.  
  
It makes her insides squirm and her legs want to run away.  
  
It is too much and everything she ever wanted.  
  
It makes her feel at home.  
  
Words fail her when she opens her eyes again, silent questions repeated by brown eyes in front of her. Emma’s mouth moves into a crooked smile, hoping that they don’t have to have the answers immediately, hoping that Regina will understand.  
  
She does, responding with a small smile to Emma’s shaky one.  
  
It’s good that they’ve pulled away, just as the sparkling mixture of violet and silver energy leaves them, because there is an excited scream.  
  
“Moms!”  
  
Emma’s smile widens as she turns around, their little boy tumbling into them before they can get up from the floor, the floor that is Regina’s living room.  
  
“We’re home!”  
  
They are pulled in as Henry puts one arm around each of them, hugging them tightly. Their eyes meet over his head, Regina raising an eyebrow at their surroundings, no doubt pondering the significance of where Emma has returned them to.  
  
“Home?“  
  
Emma simply chooses to smile even wider.  
  
Yes, they are home.


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

 

Henry is standing in the doorway to the living room, holding up a huge book, looking beseechingly at his mothers who are nestled against each other on the couch.  
  
“Just let me read one more chapter? Please?”  
  
He uses his best puppy dog eyes, but both, Emma and Regina, shake their heads.  
  
“You’ve already had half an hour, Henry. Please leave the book here and go to bed.”  
  
“Really? Ma?”  
  
Emma shakes her head.  
  
“I’m with your mom on this, kid. You need the sleep.”  
  
Henry grumbles under his breath. The words sound suspiciously like ‘co-parenting’ and ‘sucks’ and Emma bites her lips to hide her grin while he leans down to kiss first Regina and then her on the cheek before trudging out of the room.  
  
“Night, moms.”  
  
“Goodnight Henry.”  
  
“Sleep tight.”  
  
Emma shakes her head at his drawn shoulders and grave expression. She chuckles, only to notice that Regina is frowning.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Are we too strict?”  
  
Immediately Emma shakes her head.  
  
“Nonsense, the kid is pampered.”  
  
“Are we spoiling him?”  
  
It’s new, questioning how they raise their kid and Emma takes a moment to think about it. Her memories of raising Henry include a lot of things that could be constructed of spoiling him and she knows without a doubt that Regina has indeed coddled him, but she doesn’t see a mistake in it.  
  
“Sure, we spoil him a bit, but he has rules and he knows to obey them. I think we’re on a good route to prevent him growing up to be a spoiled little rich kid. He knows about his privilege and I know he’s thankful for it.”  
  
Regina takes Emma’s hand in hers.  
  
“He told me he’s happy today.”  
  
She sounds pensive, so Emma waits. Regina searches her face, before she continues.  
  
“You’ve been here almost all week.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
That’s not what she expected. Emma swallows.  
  
“I can spent some more time at my own apartment again. I mean I rented it so that I had my own place. I didn’t…”  
  
“No.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No,” Regina confirms before taking a deep breath.  
  
“Emma, I was thinking and Henry was thinking…”  
  
“Regina, out with it. It sounds bad.”  
  
“No, just…”  
  
Regina finally meets her eyes again.  
  
“I know you’ve only had your new apartment for a couple of months, but would you consider moving in with us?”  
  
Suddenly Emma’s heart beats faster.  
  
“Really?”  
  
Regina chuckles.  
  
“By now you’re practically living here anyway, dear.”  
  
“I am?”  
  
“Well, if I remember correctly, you frankly invited yourself in.”  
  
“What? When?”  
  
Confused, Emma tries to recall a moment when she stepped over the line. She has been so careful not to, trying to do it right this time, trying to make it work.  
  
But Regina simply smiles in that affectionate yet mocking way of hers that tells her that it should be obvious.  
  
“When you brought us back, remember where everyone ended up?”  
  
Of course she does. Everyone ended up in their homes, because that had been what she had been focused on. Home.  
  
Although her magic had defined home a bit different from the literal meaning.  
  
Snow and Charming had found themselves in a cute little house at the edge of town, a wide garden and just the formation of rooms Snow had always dreamed of.  
  
They still don’t know who had lived there before.  
  
Neal had appeared in the middle of Gold’s foyer, his father right next to him.  
  
Apparently the magic in his castle had somehow protected their souls. Gold had spent hours trying to figure it out, but Emma had refused to let him ‘test the limits of her magic’. Whatever that meant.  
  
Ruby and Granny had simply appeared in their own home, alone.  
  
They had, however, been beyond happy to find Belle at their doorstep, a couple of minutes later. Belle now called a cute little apartment above the library her own. (No one could tell Emma whether there had even been an apartment above the library before, but she had stopped asking.)  
  
Half of the dwarves had found themselves in a huge flat with enough rooms to hold all of them, some of them clearly only situated for visitors. Grumpy and Nova returned to an apartment above them.  
  
It was the same with the fairies, some still live in their convent, others have their own homes now.  
  
Mulan and Aurora were taken to a house with a huge garden, resembling the gardens around Aurora's castle. Mulan had been quickly reunited with her own family, but she stayed with Aurora to help with the baby.  
  
Archie, it turned out, had been incredibly lucky that Emma’s concentration hadn’t wavered and she had recognized his soul as human. He had been returned to his human form, fit enough to take care of Pongo again.  
  
Everyone else had been returned to their very own versions of their home.  
  
Henry had lately started to joke that now she had indeed brought everyone their happy ending.  
  
But all of that becomes irrelevant when she thinks about where she herself had appeared, where she and Regina had appeared. She swallows.  
  
“Of course. They got home.”  
  
One word, so many meanings.  
  
Regina is nodding, thoughtful, expectant.  
  
“I wasn’t inviting myself,” Emma shrugs apologetically, only to get a smile in return.  
  
“You didn’t need to.”  
  
They could talk about all of this, could consider Regina’s words from every angle to make sure they really mean what Emma wishes them to mean, but that’s not really them. Instead Emma leans forward and captures Regina’s lips with her own. There is a warm feeling inside of her, tugging her closer to Regina. Unbridled joy makes her smile into the kiss. She breaks away to give Regina a trembling smile, the feeling too much to keep it inside any longer.  
  
She feels secure in Regina’s arms. She knows she is secure.  
  
She is still scared as hell.  
  
Dark eyes are taking in her trembling lips, the shaky smile, the softness of Emma’s fingers on Regina’s cheek and Emma knows it is okay.  
  
“I love you,” she whispers.  
  
It is the first time she says it. They both freeze up. Emma can only hope that it isn’t too soon, that neither of them is going to freak out or run. But slowly Regina’s hands start move against Emma’s skin again, her mouth turns up in the most beautiful smile Emma has seen yet.  
  
“Is that a yes?”  
  
It takes Emma a second to get back to the beginning of their conversation, but when she does, she nods vigorously.  
  
“Of course. Yes. I’ll move in. I mean, I’m practically living here already, anyway, right?”  
  
“That’s what Henry said when I asked him,” Regina smiles and Emma nods slowly.  
  
“So, you talked to him first?”  
  
“Well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up in case he wasn’t okay with it.”  
  
“But he is?”  
  
“Yes. He said he’d love to stay here with us instead of moving every week.”  
  
“Yeah, especially since he always forgets his most important school stuff here.”  
  
Regina turns sideways to nestle into her side, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder.  
  
“That might have partly been my fault.”  
  
“What? Did you steal his math book out of his backpack? I hardly believe that.”  
  
The answering silence is enough.  
  
“You did?”  
  
Admittedly, Regina looks sheepish.  
  
“I might have looked for an excuse to come by your apartment...”  
  
Emma shakes her head and smiles.  
  
“Well, you hardly seemed to need an excuse for staying that night.”  
  
Regina chuckles against her and Emma pulls her closer, resting her cheek on Regina’s soft hair. She closes her eyes for a moment, utterly content, breathing in the familiar smell of Regina’s scent, reveling in the feeling of simply holding her, having her close. She feels so incredibly lucky to be this happy.  
  
There is a soft whisper against her collarbone, so low she almost misses it.  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Emma’s heart skips a beat, before she swallows and loosens the embrace so that she can look at Regina.  
  
“You don’t have to…”  
  
Before she can finish that sentence Regina is kissing her, the kiss filled with emotions that are no longer unspoken and Emma feels the last of her walls crumbling down to nothing. She melts into the kiss in a way she hasn’t done before. Melts into it and lets herself be held and holds Regina at the same time. Their kiss becomes more passionate until Regina nips at Emma’s lower lip, just before breaking away and placing small kisses on her jaw, moving to her neck.  
  
She keeps whispering silent “I love you”s all over Emma’s skin, overwhelming her senses in the best way possible.  
  
Emma realizes that she has been at home all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by this prompt from ladyfortunas:  
> After Regina disappears, Emma’s investigation leads her to Regina’s diaries from all her years as Queen. They’re enchanted with a spell that only allows Emma to see what is written; everyone else can only read trivial castle crap, but Emma can read Regina’s true thoughts and feelings. Emma starts to fall in love with Regina through her writing while trying to find her and bring her home.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it :)


End file.
